


Tennessee Clay

by cerealbaths (timelordangel)



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Anal Sex, Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Time, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, Love Confessions, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Panic Attacks, Slow Burn, Swimming, farmhand au, handjobs, in the closet, oblivious men, rhink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-01-16 15:47:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 68,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21273689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timelordangel/pseuds/cerealbaths
Summary: Determined to make his last summer before college graduation meaningful, Link accepts a job as a farmhand one state over. What he doesn't realize is that he's going to have to work alongside the farmer's son- a mysterious, aloof man who wants nothing to do with Link.





	1. First Night

Stick a shovel into any untilled ground in East Tennessee and you will hit dense, acidic red clay that cakes the metal as you pull the shovel out . At best, this clay is infertile and cold in winter; at worst it is baked to brick in the dead heat of summer. Despite this, people are stubborn and relentless, tough and determined- and as crazy as the Mississippi river. They take what they’ve got- and they persist.

1998

Link tosses his duffle into the passenger seat of his 1987 Nissan pickup and slams the door shut with a heavy exhale.

“So this is it, I’m off,” Link laughs, puts his hands on his hips and turns toward his mom.

“I’m so proud of you, baby,” Sue covers her mouth, tearing up in a way that makes feel Link supremely guilty and senselessly embarrassed.

“Mom, it’s just the summer. I’ll be back in August- promise,” Link says.

“I know, it’s just the last summer before you fly out of the nest for good,” Sue frowns, her arms reaching out to draw Link into the third hug of the morning.

For his last summer of college Link had accepted a farmhand position at a family farm in Tennessee- only one state over, but seemingly light years away from his tiny town in North Carolina. He knew he wanted to work for a big company with a comfortable salary after graduation, but this was a paid temporary position and he wanted to spend the summer getting used to being away from home. The thought of being around nature and animals for some time before being stuck in an office for, well, the rest of his life, was nice.

He rolls his truck out of his mom’s driveway as the radio coughs out static-y bluegrass. He sticks a hand out the window and enjoys the feeling of independence as he speeds up and the new wind resistance throws his palm back. The drive is peaceful enough, passing through the tobacco farms of North Carolina until they fade into the dense corn fields of Tennessee. Every couple of hours he fiddles with the dusty radio knob to find a new station, eventually giving up and wishing he had someone to talk to instead. 

He is an only child, so he makes do, plays games by counting the number of dead animas and abandoned cars he sees along the way. He thinks about Christy- but, by choice, he tries to stop thinking about her pretty quickly. 

It’s nearly dinnertime when Link pulls off the interstate and begins the twenty-minute drive to the farm. From what he can see past his bug-splattered windshield, this town is all decaying back roads and absent stop signs. Eventually, he reaches Apricot Lane and shifts down to first gear to crawl over the gravel road.

His old truck rattles as he comes to a stop before a mid-sized farmhouse. Around and beyond the white square structure open pastures seem to stretch on for miles, only interrupted by a red barn disintegrating just within eyesight. He tentatively opens his door and steps out, his knees cracking along with the hinges after a few hours without a break. The smell of manure hits him like a truck.

“Oh my gosh,” Link panics suddenly at the unpleasant smell, and says aloud to himself, “What have I done?” He slides back into the cab of the truck just as the front door of the house opens.

In an entirely new state of demise, he hastily flings the door back open and jumps out, tripping over his feet in the process.

“Ah, Lincoln!” A skinny woman of about 40 in tight blue jeans and a worn pastel green button-down grins, “Welcome to Randler Farm- we’re so happy to have you here for the summer!”

He gives his best impression of a smile and opens the door a third time to grab his duffle. 

“Hi Mrs. McLaughlin,” Link trips over the clunky surname, his hair sliding into his eyes in the early evening heat of summer.

“Are you hungry?” the woman laughs before pulling Link into a hug. “Call me Diane, or Momma Di, everyone does.”

“I’m starvin’, didn’t even stop for lunch,” Link feels his stomach growl, too nervous about his first solo road trip to notice it before now. 

“Great, I’m making cornbread and pintos right now. Steaks marinating in the fridge- hope you’re in the mood for spice,” Diane winks as Link trails behind her through the doors of their house.

“Where can I put-“ Link begins his question meekly, longing to set down the duffle and work boots so he can shove his melting glasses up his nose.

“Ah, that’ll go upstairs. Your room is more of a closet than a proper bedroom, but that’ll just be for sleepin’ anyhow. You can share Red’s desk and TV up there.”

“Thanks so much, ma’am,” Link sizes up the large wooden staircase, briefly wondering if he should take off his Converse before trekking up. He toes them off gingerly, to be polite, and blindly begins traversing the stairs.

The stairs creak and moan as he goes, his socked feet falling into the slight impressions in the wood from years upon years of traffic. Link normally might not notice the indents, or the scuffs and scrapes on the wall, but his glasses are pretty much only giving him the option of looking down right now.

At the top of the stairs he chooses the longer hallway to the left and ducks into a minuscule room with a twin bed against the far wall. The nightstand doubles as a two-drawer dresser, the only other piece of light brown furniture in the otherwise dim white room. The quilt on the bed is a comforting mix of plaids and solids, navy blue and forest green and faded all over.

He drops his stuff and lets out a heavy sigh as he fixes his glasses and straightens his crumpled shirt out. He sits on the bed and picks up his phone, sending a quick text to his mom that he arrived safely. 

Somewhere down the hall, a door opens. 

“Hello?” Link sticks his head out of his room and notices a new source of sunlight streaming into the hallway.

Ten minutes into his stay and he is already sneaking around, padding down the hallway before pausing in front of the ajar door. He doesn’t hear anything so he shoves it open a little more and steps in.

This room is carpeted, unlike Link’s own, and it is almost as sparsely decorated despite being twice the size. The quilt on the queen sized bed is newer, the pillows fluffier, and there is a nightstand and a dresser. A desk by the window holds the most clutter, but it appears to be spare papers and a couple of water glasses- nothing personal or fun. A surprisingly new-looking desktop computer sits in the middle, its screen black and dormant with flakes of dusk littered across it.

Upon the dresser Link spies a thick leather journal, looking like something out of the pioneer days. He hears Greg’s voice in his head egging him on, telling him to snoop around. He laughs a little to himself, tempted to peek for the first time in his life at a stranger’s diary, but he just glances around once more as if to preserve the room to memory before turning around.

When he does so he finds himself face to face with another man his age in the doorway. Perhaps not face to face, actually, as this man’s face is a good half-foot above him. It startles Link the smallest amount, sending him back a step before he looks up at this giant who seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

“Hello,” Link offers with a smile, just enough to be polite. The man has broad shoulders and thick strawberry blonde hair with a matching beard, and every inch of him seems to glow in the evening sun shining through the window behind Link.

“Mom asked me to come find you,” The man says roughly, not at all gentle in the way Link wanted his voice to match the warm tones of the sunbathed room.

“I’m Link,” Link ignores the statement, sticking out a hand. “You found me!”

The man stares at it, says, “I gathered. Come on,” And turns to head down the hallway.

“Woah, woah, woah- what’s your name?” Link hurries after him, astonished at the length of the man’s stride.

“Red,” Red says.

“Red? That’s cool. You’re their son, right? Man, I’m starving, I feel like I haven’t eaten in a week. You shoulda seen the look on your mom’s face when I told her I hadn’t stopped for lunch, I-“

Red stops dead in his tracks and turns to shoot Link a look. It is a happy, joyous look at his new best friend for the summer. Or, more accurately, it looks as though Red wants to walk right outside and never return as long as Link still resides in the house.

“Okay, fine, I get it,” Link laughs without humor, stringing his hands together and following Red the last few steps into the kitchen. He makes a mental note to rein his personality in a little bit. This is a job, after all. Three month’s contract.

Dinner is incredible. The family and Link eat on the back porch; cold glasses of lemonade go down easy as the sky grows dark around them. It’s only May 1st, too early for the obnoxious mosquitoes and horse flies that will surely come later this year. Link leans back in the sturdy porch chair and puts one hand behind his head.

So far, so great, he thinks as he stares out over the farmland. From up here it doesn’t look like much more than grass and stakes, some animals wander near the barn in the distance. His eyes trail the fence separating two of the pastures. Maybe he'll finally ride a horse. 

“Red, why don’t you show Link around the house after dinner?” Jim, Diane’s husband and Red’s father, says after a few moments of comfortable silence.

Red is mid-mouthful on his third plate of food. Link wouldn’t admit to watching him eat but there was something incredible about the man’s capacity for food; it was like watching a lion meticulously dissect a gazelle, politely gruesome and settled well into his muscle memory.

“He’s seen it,” Red asserts through the cornbread.

“Did you show him where he can put his toothbrush?” Diane wipes something invisible off Red’s t-shirt clad shoulder, like a mother hen trying to smooth out his feathers.

“By the sink,” Red replies, already loading up a fork with more pinto beans.

“Well, did you show him the bathroom-“

“It’s the room with a sink,” Red almost growls, dropping the fork. Beans fall off and scatter around the plate. He scoots his chair back hard enough to make a loud noise across the porch and stands.

His parents say nothing until long after the porch door stops vibrating from the violent slam from their son. Diane opens her mouth as if to say something, but stops when Jim cuts her off.

Jim says, “McLaughlin men ain’t used to sharing our space. He’ll get over it when he remembers how much there is to do around here in the summer. Be glad he ain’t doing it all alone.”

Diane nods and then continues her thought from before. “Don’t let him get to you.” Is all she says, and Link thinks it might not have been everything on her mind.

After dinner Link finds himself dragging his feet, losing track of his thoughts as he watches some re-run of a March madness game. NC State- his college, is being crushed by Duke. It’s a little disheartening, even months after knowing the outcome, but the familiar colors make him feel a little better about being so far away from home.

“Lived up there for years,” Jim says from beside him, a glass of whiskey in his hand.

“Why’d you move to Tennessee?” Link wishes Jim would offer him a glass as well to quell the quiet anxiety bubbling in his chest, but he keeps his mouth shut. 

“Reasons. Life brings you to places you don’t ever think you’re gonna be. Then you’re there and before you know it it’s been half a decade and I don’t remember the last time I went out that way,” Jim seems resigned as he stares blankly at the TV. “Wolf Pack hasn’t been good in a long time, but we’re still fighting, ain’t we?”

Link pretends to focus on the game again. “Yeah, we suck. But I’m still hoping, you know? I know we lose this game, I watched it live. But I’m still hoping we win.”

Jim laughs loudly, leans over to smack Link on the shoulder affectionately. The action makes Link’s throat close up in the smallest way; it makes his heart ache for something he can’t put words to anymore nearly thirteen years after his parent’s divorce.  
-

By 10 pm the entire house is in bed, the air conditioning unit far below Link’s window churning and humming in a way that reminds him he’s not home right now, not in his bedroom at his mom’s house with the light blue walls and white-framed bed. In the morning he’s going to work. And in three months, he can go back home.

He curls in on himself in the small bed and falls asleep quickly.


	2. 5 AM

Thursday morning comes astonishingly early. Five in the morning is the worst time of day, ever, probably, maybe the worst time in all of existence. His phone pings at him until he almost chucks it across the room. He angrily silences it and drags himself into a sitting position so he doesn’t fall back asleep. He groans and rubs his eyes as he slides from bed and begins his hunt for the upstairs bathroom.

His mouth feels especially sticky and gross because he was too tired to brush his teeth last night. At least that’s what he tells himself as he checks for Red before heading for the bathroom, which, to Red’s credit, _is_ the only room with a sink. 

The light is already on in the room as he shuffles in and shuts the door behind him, flipping up the toilet seat and zoning out immediately. He takes his time after brushing his teeth and washing his face, scrubbing diligently as if he can remove the exhaustion from under his eyes. Finally, after ten minutes, he emerges from the bathroom to Red staring angrily.

“This house,” Red pauses in a move Link can only assume is to collect himself, “Is a two bath. The master, and this one. Five minutes is your limit.”

“I’m sorry,” Link says, and he is. He forgot that this bathroom isn’t his alone like the one in his mom’s house. It’s like the one at the dorms, where he lived with Greg. He hopes Red’s face will soften at the apology, but it does not; Red all but shoves past him and shuts the door less-than gently in his wake.

Half an hour later Red raps on his door and tells him to put on his boots and be out back in five minutes.

The morning air is cool against Link’s skin. Birds chirp wildly in the wooded areas around the grounds, singing rapidly and furiously as if they must make up for the lack of a rooster. Except there is, in fact, a rooster.

CAAAAAAK AK KA KA KA

Link jumps straight out of his skin, gasping and stumbling backwards at the sound of the creature.

Red smirks. “That’s Richard.”

“I hate,” Link regains his breath. “I hate.”

“Yeah, hence the name, he’s a dick.” 

Link almost laughs.

“Come on, let’s go to the shed,” Red gives a nod and they head down the back porch stairs to the gravel lot that connects to the front drive.

The work shed is about the size of a small barn and smells like one, too.

“This is the shed. We keep the equipment and work truck in here, as well as some of the tack for the horses. Normally it’s open but if the padlock’s on it the code’s 828. First step of the day is gloves. You can wear these blue ones, but if they don’t fit we’ve got lots more. The big tan ones are mine,” Red explains as he digs through a tub on the worktable.

Link makes a tiny ‘oof’ as a pair of gloves gets whacked toward him. He puts them on and grabs a worn ball cap off the wall on a whim, sliding it on so it pushes the hair out of his face. When Red finally turns to him, he pauses with a slightly open mouth. As if catching himself, Red shakes his head a little and grunts.

“There’s a pond at the bottom of the north pasture where the horses are. A few months ago it rained real bad ‘n the water ended up rotting away some of the timbers on the south end of the enclosure. Today’s project is fixing the flood damage, which means we gotta go get some timber after we clear the old stuff out,” Red explains the project and then grabs a pair of keys off the wall and heads toward the dark end of the shed.

“Okay, great, let’s do it,” Link trots along after him, looking forward to seeing the horses.

“Get the chainsaw, won’t ya?” Red opens the garage bay to the pasture and Link watches Red’s muscles move under his sleeves.

Link suddenly feels self conscious about his skinny frame, feels inadequate as he watches Red hoist the metal door well over his head. He stares so long he almost forgets what he was tasked to do.

“Useless,” Red huffs, blowing past Link to grab the chainsaw off the tool rack.

Link shuffles, tucks into himself in embarrassment. “Sorry, I-“

“Get in the ATV,” Red says bluntly.

Link climbs into the four wheeler and hangs onto the box cage for a second, his fingers clench as he remembers a time when one of his mom’s boyfriends took him for a ride in his ATV after a heavy rain storm. That one had been bright blue, probably next to brand new as well. 

They’d gone all over the woods behind his house, that giant chunk of land covered with no trespassing signs, laughing their heads off at everything.

After that, Ken had taken him out for ice cream and wiped the dirt splatters off his face with the Baskin Robbins napkins. There had been a rainbow, then, across the highway on the way home.

His mom never told Link why she left Ken, and he never thought it appropriate to ask. 

The ride over only takes a few minutes, even with Red driving steadily over the threadbare grass between the pastures. When they pull up to the fencing, there are no animals in sight.

Red says nothing as he slides out of the vehicle and surveys the 100 or so feet of fencing that was clearly underwater for some time. The light brown wood of the rest of the fence seems sturdy and strong, but this portion is muddy brown and splintering. 

Red acts like it’s nothing at all as he begins to rip it out of the posts, nails screeching in displeasure as they get pulled from their homes. Like a heavyweight lifter Red tosses the timbers haphazardly into a pile and keeps going.

Link moves to start on the other end but Red stops him.

“As I yank them out, you start cuttin’ ‘em up, ‘kay?”

“How do I get it started?” Link picks up the chainsaw.

“Useless,” Red murmurs again, this time Link wonders if he was meant to hear. “You wanna rip ‘em out then? I’ll cut.”

“I’d rather cut, I don’t know how well I could get them out.”

Red gives an exasperated sigh and says, “Jesus, Link. What _ do _ you know how to do?”

“Hey, don’t talk to me like that! Listen, I know I’m from the suburbs. I know for whatever reason you don’t want me here- that’s fine! I’m here to work because you dad hired me. I ain’t here to be your friend. All I need from you is to tell me how to start the dang saw,” Link snaps, feeling a little bolder with the saw in his hand.

“Jesus christ,” Red rolls his eyes, taking the chainsaw from Link. “It’s got two compartments- one’s for gas and one is for chain lube. You gotta have both pretty full and then switch it into the ‘on’ position and pull the start. There’s eye protection in the glove box.”

Link, silent and a little regretful of his outburst, does exactly that.

The ATV is loaded up with the timbers chopped into 3-foot segments and the fence is torn down by ten thirty in the morning. The boys manage to do most of this without speaking, save for the occasional grunt from Red as he absorbs the weight of a timber.

“I’m hungry,” Link stretches his arms above his head, sweaty.

“Did you eat breakfast?” Red yanks a bungee cord over the stack of wood.

“No,” Link squints, “was there breakfast?”

“Always fruit and granola bars in the pantry,” Red says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Lunch will be around noon.”

Link frowns, but says nothing. 

“I’m gonna bring these up to the road for the garbage men to take. Collections are on Fridays, you stay here and make sure the horses don’t escape,” Red motions to the empty field in an almost comical way.

“Are you screwing with me?” Link spins toward the field, “I had forgotten what this fence was even for.”

“They’re up on the far end, but they know feed time is soon and they’ll come down. Just keep ‘em in there until I get back.” Red roars off in the ATV before Link can say a single thing, suddenly alone in the field, hungry, and hot with sore hands from the vibrations of the chainsaw. 

He slumps into the grass and lies back, exhaling and letting the sun wash over his face. It feels good to be doing something, he thinks. Feels good to be making money for once, half of which he’ll give to his mom as soon as he gets back.

Maybe she’ll breathe easier for a little while. The thought makes Link smile, his eyes still shut.

The sound of something nearby shakes him out of his reverie ten minutes or so later. He sits up quickly, looking around for the source of the erratic shuffling. What meets his eye gives him the delight of the century.

“You’re a MINIATURE HORSE!” Link practically fawns, resisting the urge to run up to the little guy and kiss his face.

The miniature horse stares at him, brown and chunky, from forty feet away.

“I love you!” Link calls, “I love you so much!”

The horse continues to stare, so much so that Link is almost positive he is hallucinating until a second one comes over the hill.

“Oh my gosh,” Link coos. This one is entirely cream, with big black eyes.

Link’s heartbeat increases as the chocolate one steps towards him. He has a sort of waddle to him, a gentle sway of his mane as he creeps forward.

Suddenly panic fills Link’s veins.

“If you guys run, I absolutely cannot catch you. Red told me to watch y’all but- but I have no idea how I’m going to stop you if you try.”

“You really shouldn’t tell them that,” A voice sounds from behind Link.

“AH!” Link squeals, spinning around to see Red with his hands on his hips, sans ATV, the smallest smile on his lips.

Before Link can say anything else, Red tosses a Ziploc baggie at him. Link catches it with grace and almost rips the bag with how quickly he gets to the peanut butter sandwich inside.

It’s a gesture, however small; perhaps one of apology, and Link accepts it with a mouthful of peanut butter.


	3. Honey and Wine

They take the farm pickup to the local lumber place after lunch.

Link drives this time because Red wants to sit in the bed of the truck and smoke on the way there. Link’s nose crumples at the smell but he shrugs, takes the keys, and enjoys listening to the preset country station. At the very least, it seems to mildly satiate Red that Link can drive a manual.

Link sings along to the classics, his voice as low as he can get it at 21.

“You’re as smooth as Tennessee whiskey,” Link sings, “you’re as a sweet-eee-et as strawberry wine. You’re as warm-mmm as a glass-ass of brandy, and honey I-” A tap on the glass makes Link’s head snap back as the truck’s diesel engine rumbles beneath them at a red light.

Red mouths “next light, turn left” and goes back to looking out at the road. Link keeps quiet as he imagines Red staring at him through the glass. He knows Rhett can hear him singing, but it doesn’t bother Link for some reason. His entire college career he has avoided singing in the shower because Greg, a good friend, might hear, but the thought of Red paying him that attention makes him feel differently.

He bites back the urge to keep singing and diligently turns left at the next light.

By dinnertime they’ve moved the lumber out into the pasture and Red has strung up some twine to keep the horses in overnight.

“They won’t go anywhere, these two are lazy bastards,” Red claps his hands on his jeans to rid them of dust.

“What are their names?” Link asks fondly, watching the two mini horses munch on grass.

“Mini Wheat and Merle. We’ve got two paints as well, and a couple ‘a draft horses being leased out right now out in Memphis,” Red grunts, picking up the stray nails in the grass.

“I like them. I’m a big fan of the human Merle and the cereal mini wheats, too. Are the cows over there yours?” Link nods to the east pasture, where several brown cows seemed to be frozen on their feet.

“Yep, but my dad tends to them. I’m in charge of the horses, chickens, and keepin’ the barn clean. Come on, weakest, it’s dinnertime.”

“Weakest?” Link murmurs, shaking his head. 

-

“Hi mom,” Link grins with his mouth against his flip-phone. “Miss you.”

“How is the farm, baby? Are they working you hard?”

“It’s great. The food Mrs. Diane cooks is good and the work feels right. Feels good to be working with my hands again, college is such a mental game these days.”

“Are you almost done there? I barely have to go grocery shopping without you around, it’s nice.”

“Mom! I’ve been gone one day!” Link laughs loudly at his mom’s teasing and rolls onto his stomach on his bed and kicks his feet up in the air.

“Well I need you to email David and thank him for getting you this job, okay? He put in a good word for you, that’s nice of him.”

“I know, momma. I know. I’ll make sure to email him.”

“Tonight!” His mom warns.

“Okay, okay!” Link frowns. “I gotta go do that then, before it gets too late.”

“Okay, you do that. I love you, call me before next week,” His mom finishes before hanging up.

Link huffs and flips his phone shut. He’d managed to avoid Red this far into the night as the clock nears ten, but now he has to go ask to use the computer. He thinks about conveniently forgetting, but David really did him a solid by getting him this job. He urges himself to his feet.

Red’s room door is closed and, despite the silence of the house, his light is still on just above the settled hardwood. Link taps the door nicely, softly, and just quietly enough that he won’t be lying to his mom when she asks if he at least tried to get to the computer. To Link’s misfortune, the door opens.

Red’s hair is smushed down against his scalp, a dent from what Link can only guess were headphones, his face clean and looking less composed now, softer around the edges. “What?” Red widens his eyes and broadens his shoulders, attempting to look threatening in the dim light. It’s like watching a bird puff up to scare a bug.

Link regrets knocking. “Can I uh, use the computer for a second?” Link requests, unable to focus on Red’s face for some reason. His eyes choose to speak to the carpet.

Red pauses, long and hard. Link expects to hear a sigh or a huff or a flat out “Try Again Later”, like Red is some kind of demented Magic 8 Ball that Link can’t seem to shake the right way. But Red just moves back wordlessly, dragging the door open with him. He climbs back onto his bed and puts his over the ear headphones back on, picking up the same thick journal Link saw yesterday to resume writing.

Link walks over to the desk and boots up the desktop. It flashes on quickly with a welcome whirr to drown the silence. It’s easy enough to log into Gmail and type a brief paragraph of gratitude, but he does it as quickly as he can, as if Red is going to kick him out after his allotted five minutes. In the silence of the room he can hear a faint beat from Red’s headphones and wishes the music could be playing over a speaker instead. He misses his mom’s music filling their house the way it did when he still lived at home. He thinks idly that Red’s horse is named Merle; maybe he would be up for listening to the legendary real Merle sometime while they work.

Link logs out of his account and powers down the desktop, silently removing himself from the chair and walking back to the still-open door. He lingers there, his fingers tapping on the door where his palm rests. He contemplates saying something, maybe _thanks_, or _goodnight_, or _I’m feeling kind of homesick, would you mind if I stayed in here for a little bit and listened to music with you?_ But he makes up his mind swiftly when Red glances up at Link’s form in the doorway. “Thanks,” Link says abruptly, leaving and shutting the door before he can get any sort of response.

\- The weekend comes in like the tide and Link lives for the feeling of doing nothing at all. He slouches over the kitchen table and messes with his phone, texting Greg about Tennessee and the mountain of jam and biscuits he just devoured.

“It’s almost eleven, can’t believe Red isn’t up yet,” Link makes small talk, trying not to ignore Momma Di as she does the crossword diligently across from him.

“Oh, he left early this morning for the lake. If you want to go join them I’m sure he wouldn’t mind,” She says.

Link frowns, suddenly losing his appetite for his last egg. “I’m okay, I need to, uh,” He trails off, to nobody’s care. If Red didn’t want to be his friend, he didn’t care. He could befriend the horses and spend the summer drowning himself in books and sunshine. Thinking about spending the next three months alone makes his stomach tense; bubbles form in his arms and keep him grounded to the old chair. His eyes shut without his permission. _No_, he thinks, _I promised this wouldn’t happen here._

“Jim is down by the barn, if you haven’t been down there yet you should go take a look,” Di suggests, perhaps sensing his silent implosion.

“Yeah, sounds good,” He nods, forcing himself to stand and carry his plate to the kitchen before he gets even more in his head.

The barn is a just a few minutes’ walk and Link enjoys the grounding feeling of too-long grass scraping his ankles over the tops of his worn sneakers. He spots Jim with a shovel in one hand and a cloth in the other. Link can't help but wonder what he is about to do.

“Hi Jim,” Link grins and shoves his hands in his pockets in some display of submission.

“Hiya, Lincoln, glad to see you. I was about to head to meet Ted Oakland and talk about getting one of the minis bred. I think Mini Wheat might be ready for a minier wheat.”

“Wow, you breed them?” Link gazes over to the north pasture where his new fence is standing strong. 

“Sure do. Never tried with the little ones before but Ted has and he has a healthy stallion. Hard to look at one of those and see a stallion but…”

“What about Merle?” Link asks.

“He’s castrated. Came here that way. Anyway, I’d love some help if you’re lookin’ for something to do. Want to help out with the gutters?” Jim asks as he uses the cloth to wipe his forehead.

“Uh, sure. Needing replacing?” Link stares up at the gutters far above him, trying to think of what else gutters might need done to them.

“Nah, just need the springtime flowers flushed outta there. I’m getting too old to be messin’ around in the hayloft. Red normally… if you want to take the PVC pole and go up to the access hatch and just, well, you get the idea. It’d be appreciated.”

Link shrugs and agrees, wandering into the barn for the first time with an air of false confidence, spurred by this seething desire inside of him to prove Red wrong. He can do this- better and faster than Red ever could.

He picks up the pole and hooks it under one arm before ascending the ladder to the loft. He climbs over the small railing and smiles as his feet hit the old wood. The hayloft is small compared to the rest of the barn, as it’s only 300 square feet or so and fairly empty. Link isn’t sure what he expected a hayloft to look like, but as he stares at the light streaming in through the gaps in the access hatches and observes the thick floating dust in the air, he decides it’s quite nice and he’s glad he wandered down to the barn after all.

He wants to sit down on one of the few remaining bales and enjoy the quiet warmth, but he walks over to the hatch and struggles with the rusty latch until the door swings open and almost clobbers him. Very carefully, he steps up on a bale and maneuvers the pole until he’s got a good angle for shoving flowers out of the gutters. It takes longer than expected and he about jumps out of his skin when an old truck backfires in the distance.

He switches to the other side when he deems it open enough for the water to flow, and by late afternoon his arms are sore and he wants to fall back into bed. Unable to resist the intoxicating warmth of the loft, he climbs down and wanders to the back where a perfect bed of hay invites him to take a snooze. He lies down and right before he closes his eyes he sees a flash of blue.

Curiosity peaks and he opens one eye, debating a rest over investigating. Curiosity wins and Link discovers that it’s a blue backpack, worn but clean. Link unzips it to find a thick camera on the inside. It looks nice, nicer than Link’s ever seen this close. It has a padded strap that reads CANON and an array of memory chips on the inside pocket of the backpack.

“Wow,” Link breathes. He glances around, feeling safe here, slides the closest memory chip in and flicks on the camera. He settles back on his haunches and goes to the gallery. At first he just watches the field behind the house age through autumn, witnesses the fade and wilt of the grasses in the north pasture.

A brief thought passes through his mind that he will never get to see the field change in person, all he'll ever know of this place is the broiling hot summer. About fifteen pictures in, the focus changes to a beautiful woman. She is skinny and tall with long blonde hair cascading off her shoulders. Link finds her stunning but doesn’t linger on the photos of her, passing forward until he hits one of a tall guy with his head thrown back, laughing wildly at something off camera. Link pauses, only mildly convinced this could actually be Red.

Whoever took the camera for this picture isn’t as talented as the person who photographed the changing scenery. Red is a little out of frame; the beer in his hand is overflowing with tremors of laughter. He looks younger here, maybe. Link smiles, he can’t help it. The camera dies as if even it knows that these are not his memories to see.

Link feels the absence of his brief entertainment before he takes the chip out and returns everything to its rightful place.


	4. Redneck Yacht Club

Red is home by the time Link walks in through the back porch, dusty and sun kissed. Link immediately turns up the level of exhausted he really is, hyper-aware of Red’s eyes on him from across the kitchen. He wipes off his forehead and smooths his palms on his t-shirt.

“What’d you do today?” Link asks innocently.

“Went out,” Red replies, the edges of his mouth turned down, as if contemplating how much information would warrant Link revealing the same. “You?”

“Helped clear the gutters in the barn,” Link shrugs, as if it was nothing.

Red makes a low noise of dissatisfaction. “You don’t have to work on weekends.”

“Had nothin’ else to do, you know that,” Link sets down a glass of water with more force than necessary.

For a second they stare at each other.

“You weren’t up,” Red says, to Link’s surprise. “We went early.”

“Oh,” Link says, his hands still wrapped around the glass. The condensation leaks beneath his fingers and keeps them glued there.

Red shrugs, “Yeah. Tomorrow we’re, uh, going out again. If you want to come.”

“Did your mom make you ask me?” Link laughs, “Because you really didn’t sell that.”

“No, man, we’re not kids. Nobody told me to do anythin’.”

For a second Link stares at the kitchen counter and contemplates telling Red to go fuck himself. Then he thinks of actually spending time on the lake with potential friends and purses his lips. “Okay, fine. I’ll go,” Link takes a pointed sip of water.

Red sighs like he already regrets asking and says, “Be ready by nine, and wear your swim trunks.”

Link pauses, suddenly aware that he packed no such thing and simultaneously reminded of his absolutely petrifying fear of deep water. On top of all that, that he hasn’t swam beyond messing around in the Cape Fear river once or twice with Greg. He considers voicing any of this, but does not.

“Sounds good,” Link says instead.

-

Link chooses his most swimsuit-esque boxers to go to the lake the next morning. Maybe Red wouldn’t notice? He grimaces in the mirror at his skinny frame. He looks like he forgot to put on pants for the day. Someone knocks on his door at 8:45.

“Mm?” Link opens the door.

Red looks taken aback at Link in only his boxers. He steps back, looking away. “I’ll come back in a minute.”

“Wait! Hang on, I know. I’m in underwear. But I, uh,” Link shrugs, “Don’t really have any swim trucks.”

Red looks back, pointedly, and stares at Link’s small form. “I don’t think mine will fit you.” He crosses his arms and frowns. “Wal-Mart is down the road.”

“Right, I’ll go and come back, or meet you guys there or-“ Link’s embarrassed, tugging jeans over his light blue boxers. He wonders why he didn’t think of that sooner, actually.

“We can swing by on the way,” Red shrugs and doesn’t immediately leave. In fact he’s still staring at Link.

Link tugs on a shirt and grabs his bag and sunglasses. “Okay, then, I’m ready to go.”

Red nods. “Come on then, weakest.”

Link cocks his head and follows the man to the front door and to his car. Red climbs into his Subaru SUV that looks newer than it has any right to on this farm. It’s a pale green, perfectly matching the holly bush behind it, dried up from the continuous lack of sun.

“Cool car,” Link slides in, tucking into himself as if Red might snap if he so much as adjusts the seatbelt.

“Mhm,” Red rolls down the windows and turns the station to something country and slightly static-y.

“You like Toby Keith?” Link sticks his arm out the window and lets it glide over the chilly air, not quite warmed by the sun at this hour.

“Yep.”

“Me too. You like this song?” Link loves watching the overgrown greens littering the edges of these back roads. It’s impressive the way Red knows the curve of every bend out here in the sticks.

“Yep.”

“Come on then, cowboy. Let’s hear it,” Link grins, doesn’t dare to look over at Red’s face.

There’s a long pause of silence between them as the song keeps playing. Link figures he was just messing around anyhow, and it’s probably better that he keeps his mouth shut from now on.

Link has to wipe the look of absolute wonder off his face when Red starts singing, low and warm in this incredible way that renders Link useless.

Red sings, “I should have been a cowboy, I should’a learned how to rope and ride, wearing my six-shooter, ridin’ my pony on a cattle drive-“

“Singin’ those campire songs, woah,” Link joins in.

“Woah, should’a been a cowboy-“ They sing in unison. “Yeah, I should’ve been a cowboy, I should have been a cowboy.”

The song ends and Link laughs loudly and says, “Yeah man, that’s what I’m talking about.”

Red shrugs, eyes on the road and mouth downturned. Somewhere, in the subconscious mind of a man with a summer project in the works, Link vows to make Red laugh at some point. But for now, satisfied, Link crosses his arms and smiles out the window.

When they hit Wal-mart Link realizes that the bathing suit section has been wiped out and the only one in his size is covered in watermelons. He shakes his head hard and gets over it, forking over the $10 and bolting back to the car. His hand is almost on the handle when he notices that Red is smoking out the window.

“That’s nasty, man,” Link coughs as he settles into the seat again and leans toward the window for some fresh air.

“Yep,” Red starts the car again, dropping the cigarette out the window onto the asphalt.

“Can you,” Link coughs again, “say anything else?”

Red gives the smallest shake of his head and his mouth curves up at the corner as they get back on the road.

-

The lake is beautiful and not yet crowded as it nears ten. Red hops out of the car and grabs his backpack from the back, immediately abandoning Link as he jogs up to two women on a boat tethered to the pier. The boat is a decent size but looks rough, some ski-boat long worn from the relentless wake. Link stays in the car, tugging off his jeans and pulling on the swim trunks. He feels incredibly weird about his bare ass touching the car seat, but he’s out of options.

“Ladies, good morning!” Red grins, no regard for Link rushing to keep up with him.

“Red!” A blonde girl squeals and hops up onto the peer to grab his bag. She already has a fruity drink in her hand. The boat rocks violently when her weight leaves it. Link swallows hard.

“Mornin’, Ellie. Where’s Sean?” Red steps onto the boat and kicks open the blue cooler on the swim platform, grabbing a beer as one hand steadies the vessel.

Red’s weight changes the entire chemistry of the boat; between his landing and the other girl's departure, the imbalance almost knocks the woman lounging off the front. She slides her sunglasses down in annoyance and looks at Red for a minute, and then looks left to stare directly at Link, her eyes softening.

“And who are you?” She asks cooly.

“I’m Link,” Link says, his eyes searching over her features to figure out why she looks so familiar. “I work with Red.”

“Welcome to the redneck yacht club,” She laughs and returns her glasses to her face.

Sean arrives with two more twelve packs of natty’ light, to the utter delight of the group. Red doesn’t bother with introductions, leaving Link to pace uncomfortably on the dock. Eventually everyone piles onto the boat and Link is the only one who hasn’t made any progress.

“Come on, Link!” Ellie grins. “Untie us and hop on.”

Link kneels to undo the simple knot in the cleat but just holds the rope after, unsure if he really trusts this boat. He says, “I’ve never been on a boat.”

Everyone simultaneously looks at Red. Link’s face burns. Red rolls his eyes and stands, stepping back onto the swim platform. “Come ‘ere,” Red beckons, holding out an impatient hand. Link complies in embarrassment and something else, something weird and itchy that makes him grab Red’s hand and focus on exactly how that feels instead of on the water sloshing beneath them. What he doesn’t expect is Red yanking him forward and wrapping an arm around his waist once he’s on the platform.

“There you go. Now sit down,” Red drops every point of contact and returns to his seat next to Sean.

Link recovers from the thirty seconds of fear and touch, and whatever else is now manifesting, as he inches over the boat to the seat behind the driver. His nails leave little half moons of fear on the upholstery as Ellie increases the speed and they begin flying over the lake, evening out on plane and leaving a beautiful churning wake behind them. They finish their initial journey in a secluded cove near a bend in the lake. The speedboat shudders to a stop and seems to relax deeper into the water as Ellie cuts the engine.

“ANCHORS DOWN!” Sean yells as he opens a hatch on the front and chucks a dinky anchor into the water. The thick rope is quickly dragged into the depths and when it finally catches Sean wipes his hands on his swim trunks and throws his fists into the air.

Link realizes his mistake the second everyone on the boat starts catapulting into the water. He frantically grabs onto the frame of the boat as the vessel rocks unforgivingly. He can feel his pulse quicken and he just wants to be back home with a smoothie and a kiddie pool for his toes. He shouldn’t have accepted this pity invite, he doesn’t know these people, Red doesn’t like him, and this lake is frighteningly deep, judging by the amount of time the anchor took to sink. He can feel the anxiety fermenting in his stomach and rising up to his chest. _No, not here! _

He sits down. By now, Link’s heart is pounding so quickly and his breathing has gone so shallow that he feels dizzy.

“Link!” one of the girls shouts his name from the water. He barely hears it, trying to act calm and casual as he resists the overwhelming urge to put his head between his legs.

“Link?” This voice is distinctively male, a familiar voice in an unfamiliar tone.

“Yeah,” Link coughs out, “sorry, feeling ill, gonna uh, hang out up here for a minute.”

The boat shifts beneath him and he digs his nails into his thighs. The cheap material of his new swimsuit argues against the motion, strains enough that Link fears for the integrity. Before he can worry enough to retract his hands, there’s a hand on his shoulder.

“Link?” Red’s voice is right beside him, firm.

“Mhm?” Link manages, eyes still screwed shut.

“They’re worried about you,” Red says, dripping water from every inch of his body. “Are you okay?”

“Just peachy, thanks,” Link lies.

“Come on man, what’s wrong?”

Link opens his eyes as much as he can and takes a deep breath. This is easy. These are the lines he learned to say to field trip chaperones and lifeguards at the Keith Hills Country Club when everything got to be a little too much. He breathes and says, “I get panic attacks sometimes, when things are too new. I’m not used to these people, or the water, really. So I will stay up here and try to keep breathing.”

Red stands and Link hopes he’s gone, accepting that Link is a weirdo and thankfully leaving him alone. But he returns half a minute later and shoves a cold water bottle into Link’s hand. The bottle is covered in lake water where Red’s hand was.

“You can always just sit on the swim platform and dangle your feet off if you don’t want to get in. Stevie always does that.”

Link wants to protest, wants to shake his head to everything until Red leaves him alone, like he always does when anyone tries to help. Red is more relentless than those who usually try to help, though, and Link finds himself subconsciously easing into the comfort of another person, someone who isn’t just awkwardly hugging him or letting him retreat into himself.

“Okay,” Link breathes in the warm, humid air. He takes a sip of the cool water and feels it all the way to his stomach. “I’m sorry, I’ll be there in a minute, thank you for the water.”

“I’ll wait for you,” Red says. His voice is calm and commanding. And so they wait in silence until Link finally finishes the bottle of water and sits up a little straighter. Separating his mind from the panic attack is extracting salt from water, but he does it. He reverse osmosis's his thoughts and comes out alive.

Nobody acts weird when they return to the swim platform. Stevie is on her stomach, her arm trailing in the water while the rest of her tans. Red tosses himself back into the water, sending a spray up on Link and Stevie.

“Hey!” Stevie huffs playfully.

“Ya jerk,” Link grins, sitting down crossed-legged.

When Red shakes his head and looks back at them, he is smiling.


	5. Green Gloves

Link almost falls asleep on the front of the boat after they have sandwiches and chips for lunch. He lies on the soft padding in a damp towel he stole from Ellie after she put her clothes back on. It feels cool on his skin, a slight hint of the lake he was too afraid to go in. Now Ellie lies beside him, notably kinder and warmer than the rest of the bunch. The rest of the gang is still in the water, perched on various floating noodles and having moved far enough away that Link feels safe to speak freely.

“You think Red likes Stevie?” Link says, just to seem involved. The two of them seemed to get on well, anyway, and Red had taken all those pictures of her on his camera.

Ellie laughs. “She’s got a girlfriend.”

“A girlfriend? She’s a lesbian?” Link says, the wood weird and foreign on his tongue, as if making its way there after two decades of silence. He doesn’t think he’s ever met a lesbian.

Ellie rolls to face him and purses her lips. “Sorry to disappoint.” She says a bit harshly.

“No! I wasn’t attracted to her or nothin’. I was just tryin’ to- I dunno. Tryin’a figure out Red a little more I guess. Guy’s pretty closed off.”

“He’s just Red, that’s how he is. He seems to like you more than the guy they hired last year, for what it’s worth.”

“I guess there is someone different every year,” Link muses aloud, briefly taken aback by the thought that someone else had lived in his bedroom last summer.

“They’ve only been here four years,” Ellie says, “only had help the last two, after, well, maybe that’s not my story to tell.”

“Think I’ll ever get him to tell me it?” Link laughs, rolls back and closes his eyes into the sun.

“I never really know with him. I think you’ll get along with him well if you just keep your expectations low.”

Link settles in on that, keeps his eyes shut and thinks about how hot and cold Red seems to be. He’s never met anyone who seems to be fighting against himself so much, ‘cept maybe his dad, before he left his mom.

-

The car ride home is quiet and calm, the radio stays mostly on commercials for local car dealerships or the old salvage store closer into town. Link keeps his window down and watches the greenery blur by as if he could be passing through time. At some point Red lights a cigarette and Link doesn’t have enough energy left in his bones to care.

Diane makes pulled pork sandwiches for dinner and Link calls his mom after, happy to hear that David appreciated the email and hopes to hear from Link again soon. When the phone clicks off and the room is dark, he feels quite lonely. He wishes he could talk to Ellie again, if not just to have a friend here who would lend him a damp towel and entertain his passing assumptions.

Link forgets to set an alarm for the morning as he lets his eyes close, perfectly happy to take a break from his consciousness.

-

The beginning of the workweek drags as the McLaughlins and Company prepare for hay harvesting season. Out in the pasture Mini Wheat and Merle sleep next to each other, not too close as the heat of summer intensifies. Link lies awake around noon on Wednesday, skipping the lunch spread on the back porch to rest his aching limbs. He doesn’t mind the feeling of hard work, but he needed a break; he needed to close his eyes for a minute and breathe in the stagnant air of his tiny room.

Red hasn’t exchanged more than pleasantries with link since the boat ride, only offering the courtesy of a sharp knock on his bedroom door five minutes before Link is to meet him on the back porch every morning. Despite this, Link has grown more comfortable around the giant, grumpy man; it’s near the end of week two when he’s finally comfortable dishing the snarky comments right back and avoids needing the computer at all costs. So when there is a soft tap on the door Link is startled out of his daydreams, suddenly fourteen again in his bedroom with his mom asking if he wants to go run errands with her.

Low on cash for most of their lives, his mom’s Saturday treat would be taking them to the local public library to check out a few books. They would read them together, side-by-side on the porch swing as it poured rain. Link wants it to be his mom so fiercely that he can barely stand it, barely handle it when he opens the door and it’s Red instead.

“It’s only been ten minutes-“ Link whines.

“I- I know,” Red says, “I was just checking on you.”

“Checking on me?” Link asks, shifting through his thoughts as if he might remember something weird he might have said or done.

“After- ya know, what happened over the weekend. You just disappeared up here.”

They stare at each other for a minute.

“I’m fine,” Link finally says.

Red presses his lips together and says “Good.”

It is only now that Link notices the plate of food in Red’s hands. Following Link’s eyes, Red shoves it forward with so much force the hotdog almost rolls off.

“Are we allowed to eat up here?” Link takes the plate, mouth watering at the just the proximity of food.

“No, not really,” Red shrugs.

Link smiles and feels like a car wreck as he takes a step back and throws a tentative arm out in some attempt at being welcoming. “Want to come sit?”

Red is the passerby, unable to look away. “Uh, I-“

“It’s okay, man. I know you want to get back to lunch. Thanks for bringing me some,” Link casts his eyes down and gives Red the space to leave, the space to refuse him. And the second Red is gone he regrets it. In fact, the regret feels a lot like disappointment, like he wanted Red to stay more than he wanted to admit it.

He flops back onto the bed and thinks about asking if he can work on the flowerbeds instead of painting the shed for the rest of today. He barely eats what Red brought him, suddenly feeling silly for being up in his room at all. He feels angry, his blood hot in his veins, maybe it's resentment and frustration at the entire situation. He wants some kind of control here but he feels like he’s at the mercy of whatever Jim needs done, whatever Diane makes to eat, and whatever back and forth trauma Red is trying to inflict upon him.

He lets out a low noise and decides to be bold, for once. He texts Greg for the first time that week, apologizing for ignoring him in the same 50 characters that he asks for advice. He wants to talk to Ellie again, wants to hang out with someone his age who actually enjoys his company. His two issues related to this though are: the fact that he doesn’t have her number and he doesn’t have Red’s blessing to poach one of his friends.

Greg tells him to just do it, just look her up in the phone book or something. Link finds that he can’t articulate why he feels wrong going behind Red’s back. He knows that it would put their relationship on the rocks- just when it was starting to get a little better, too.

Greg gets left unanswered, _unhelpful bastard._

-

Link finds himself alone in the shed looking for his pair of gloves. They’re the only ones that really fit him and unfortunately, they’ve gone missing. He hums as he digs through the tub for another pair- pausing when he finds a new-er looking green pair with COLE written on the cuff in sharpie.

“Cole, huh? Musta’ been one of the guys before me. I wonder if Red liked him.” Link wonders aloud, pulling the gloves on with a pleased hum when they fit.

Red gives a less-than-pleased hum when he sees Link return.

“Not your gloves,” Red snaps, “Where’s the red pair you normally wear?”

Link shrugs, “Dunno! I probably left them somewhere.”

Red rolls his eyes, “Please tell me you didn’t leave them out in the West pasture last night.”

Link opens his mouth to deny the claim but quickly snaps his jaw shut again because,_ shoot_, he definitely did. “I-”

“Go get them- ‘supposed to rain tonight. And take the ATV- I need you back to spot me on this ladder.”

“Fine, fine,” Link nods, taking the keys from Rhett and bolting back to the shed.

Link likes riding in the ATV alone- it makes him feel cool, like the kids at Harnett Central High School who stayed after class and smoked their own rolled cigarettes on the blacktop. Link had tried one once, because it was tobacco country after all, and that was how he’d accidentally smoked pot for the first time.

He remembers dizzily riding his bike home, trying to creep in through the door under the carport silently despite it being five pm. Sue had lost it- she’d never learned a way to discipline Link that didn’t involve yelling until she started sobbing, saying things like, “You could have died!” (Spoiler alert: he definitely could not have died.)

Link clears his throat as the ATV hits a nasty divot in the grass. He likes the West Pasture the least of the four- it’s where the garden and the compost barrels are, and where there’s compost and vegetables, well, there are bugs. He hops off and starts looking around for his gloves, swatting the little gnats that gather around his ears and make a shrill buzzing that makes him duck and grunt. It’s hot today, swelteringly so with the promise of storm on the horizon. He keeps looking, looks so hard he only stops once he realizes he can hear a faint trickling sound.

Curious, he looks out as far as their property goes where a line of sparse forest provides a barrier to their neighbors. Link slowly slides into the ATV and flicks his wrist to start the engine, driving toward the forest edge as if pulled by a force more powerful than common sense. He stops when he sees a small stream, a grin lighting up his face.

It’s beautiful by the stream, however dwindled and muddy it may be, and Link imagines that if he grew up here he would have asked one of mom’s boyfriends to build him a treehouse. Maybe Jack would have done it, he _was_ a carpenter, right? Link stares up at the trees and wonders if Red knows this place is here.

-

“Took you long enough,” Red grunts when Link comes back.

“My gloves were still in the ATV, so I went all the way out there for nothin’!” Link tosses the green gloves into the grass as he tugs on his red ones.

“Pick those up, man, they ain’t yours,” Red frowns, eyes following the mistreated gloves.

“Then whose are they? Cole’s? S’not like he works here anymore,” Link says.

“Cole wasn’t an employee here, he’s my brother,” Red glares back at Link. “And these are his, so show some respect.”

“Geeze, okay,” Link shrugs, feeling uncomfortable as he tucks the green gloves into the back pocket of his jeans, not bothering to make eye contact with Red to see if that was any better than tossing them in the grass.


	6. Physical

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my favorite chapter yet- I hope you enjoy.

Red throws a bale of hay across the barn one afternoon. It hits the cement floor with a dull thud and puffs up a large cloud of dust. Link coughs nearby, leaning against another stack.

“Oughta get these up to the hayloft soon, more’s comin’ in,” Red muses mostly to himself.

“How does gettin’ ‘em up there even happen?” Link looks at the rickety ladder he’d climbed up last week to clean the gutters and cocks his head.

“Well,” Red pauses as if trying to figure it out. “Slowly, for one.”

“I betcha I can make a pulley system,” Link straightens himself out, “No way I’m up for shouldering every bale.”

“A pulley system? What are you, an engineer?”

Link waits, considering if the statement was sarcastic or not. When nothing follows, he says, “Well, almost. Graduating in May.”

Red stops what he’s doing and looks over at Link for a long while. The hairs on Link’s neck stand erect as he absorbs Red’s gaze.

“You’re studying engineering?” Red asks softly.

“Yep, industrial,” Link says. “Funny, you don’t know the only thing about me I tell everyone I meet.”

“Didn’t tell me,” Red says.

“Didn’t ask ‘till now.” Red shrugs, grabbing onto the ladder and tugging himself up to the hay loft.

Link huffs and begins to follow when Red shuts him down. “No, stay down there,” Red barks, “I’m just making sure it’s ready.”

Link shrugs and keeps dragging in hay from outside. Red climbs back down not two minutes later, the worn blue backpack hanging off one shoulder. Link can’t help but stare at it, flushed with the memory of the pictures he shouldn’t have seen. He’s not thinking, just trying to say something to break the silence when he says,

“Weird place to keep a camera bag.”

Red reaches the ground and grunts, gingerly placing the bag by the workbench. He’s about four steps back to Link when he freezes. “How did you know that was a camera bag, Link?”

Link’s heart skips a beat, thuds unevenly in his chest as his mouth gapes open. “I don’t know, I- I just assumed-”

“Did you go through my shit? What were you doing up there, snooping around? You think my dad would want to hear about this?” Red is suddenly backing Link against the wall; he might as well be foaming at the mouth.

“Listen, I was up there helping with the gutters-” Link curls in on himself, staring up at Red’s disgusted snarl.

“I don’t care! I don’t care why you were up there! Don’t fucking touch my goddamn stuff, okay!” Red shoves Link’s chest with one large, firm hand. Link flinches away so hard that his back hits the sharp wood of the barn wall. He feels the thick splinters pierce through the thin fabric of his shirt and scrape into the skin on his back. Red’s fingers grip into Link’s t-shirt as he drags him to his tip-toes.

“You’re such a punk, such an elitist punk, my dad should’a hired someone with more hard work under his belt, chose you because you’re Mr. _I’m so Great_, Mr. _Engineer from NC State_, every god damn thing my dad wants in a kid, fuck you, Link. Go home,” Red spits, barely missing Link’s shoulder. “Just get the hell away from here.”

He drops Link and turns away. Link trembles violently, hyper-aware of the small scratches on his back and the still-stretched-out hand print on his shirt. He considers running, but understands that no matter what he would have to face Red again eventually. If he left now and got in his car and went home he’d be admitting defeat. How would he even survive after graduation if he couldn’t survive two weeks in the real world?

With his newfound resolve he shakes off and darts across the barn, tackling Red hard from behind.

“The hell?!” Red spins around, slinging Link off of him into the stack of hay.

“You jealous bastard!” Link goes at him full force again, hands out, clenched in fists and ready to punch. Red grabs onto Link’s arm and easily holds him back as the smaller man goes at him, violently swinging every limb in some vain attempt to gain contact with Red.

“Let it go, Link,” Red snaps. Link doesn’t let it go. In fact, he latches onto Red’s arm with his teeth and Red releases Link’s arm, whether out of shock or pain Link doesn’t know. Red grabs onto Link’s hair, tugging it until Link unclamps his teeth. “Who taught you how to fight?!” Red chokes, his eyes wide.

“My _mama_!” Link snarls as he kicks Red in the shin, making Red take a wild leap backward.

Red stops in his tracks as he stares at the feral man across from him. For a second, everything is calm, then Red bursts into overwhelming hyena laughter, doubling over as his eyes clench up and he bellows loudly. He throws his head back laughing like a little kid, laughs and laughs with his mouth wide open until Link can’t stand it anymore and burst into a sputtery, breathless laughter as well, two feet away.

They howl, unable to contain themselves. Every minute or so one of them straightens up and takes a steadying breath, only to lose all control moments later. They’re still howling when Jim appears in the doorway of the garage.

“Rhett James McLaughlin, what in _God’s_ name are you two hollerin’ about?” Jim puts his hands on his hips, eyes wide in awe of his son losing his mind before him.

Red catches his breath and looks at his dad with watery eyes. “Jus’ laughin’, I suppose.”

“I can, uh, see that. You gonna finish this before sundown or is this a mornin’ project?” Jim catches the smile and darts his eyes between the two boys, mouth a firm line.

“We’ll finish it tonight. It’s supposed to rain tomorrow.”

“Good. I guess I’ll head to the hardware store before they close. You need anything?” Jim asks, kindness forming in his eyes the longer he realizes that nothing is really amiss.

Red shakes his head no and both boys start picking up hay to get him to go away faster. When Jim is gone, Red sits down on a bale and lets out a low breath.

“Rhett?” Link muses, plopping down on the adjacent bale.

Rhett looks up, all laughter wiped from his face. “S’not what most people call me.”

“But that’s your real name?” Link hesitates to push the conversation. He stares at the concrete floor, dusted with soil and thick, golden strands of wheat.

“Yeah,” Rhett says “Don’t wear it out.”

“I like it,” Link says, his heart increasing in speed deep within his ribcage, anxiety or something similar crawling up his esophagus. “Maybe one day you’ll learn my real name.”

Rhett’s eyes pan to Link’s red face, holding his gaze for a terribly long, calculated time.

-

Link steps into the old porcelain bathtub. It does not creak under his weight like the cheap plastic tub at his college apartment. It is smooth and firm all over as he turns on the water and gets showered in a cool spray. It feels good, reminds him of the cold, hasty showers he would take after soccer practice in the dead heat of summer. He rinses off the surface level of dirt, the water a light brown as it circles the drain. Link watches the water get swallowed with a mute interest, enjoying the serene absence of doing anything at all.

When the water turns warm after its wild effort of moving through decade old pipes winding and turning in the walls of this old home, Link plugs the drain and sinks down to sit on the warm white surface of the tub. He lies back where the shampoo sits in the corner and lets the hot water cascade over his tired body. After ten minutes he cuts off the water and thinks to himself in the following silence that if he falls asleep, Red's going to kill him for hogging the bathroom.

He laughs gently to himself, turns slightly on his side to close his eyes and nestle into the warmth of a full tub. It’s night time by now, the house quiet around him. Comfortable enough at this point to be exposed in this contained element, this endless- The doorknob shakes roughly, and then stills.

Link’s thought catches in his mind as he startles into a sitting position. The water splashes dangerously around him. 

“Link?” His already whispered name is muffled by the door but it’s very clearly Rhett’s voice.

“I’m bathing,” Link drawls, smacking himself in the face with how it comes out.

“You’re what? I gotta piss, man,” Rhett drums on the door once more.

“I ain’t moving from the bath but you can come in,” Link responds, half-joking.

Rhett picks the lock with his fingernail and begins to come in, startling Link into grabbing the curtain and yanking it across the tub. Rhett shuts the door behind him and tugs himself out of his pajamas, or Link imagines as he hides behind the curtain. Link curls into a ball in the water, unable to stop imagining Rhett’s penis.

He doesn’t want to analyze why he is imagining what it looks like or what exactly Rhett is doing right now in the silence, a silence that should be filled by some sort of … splashing.

“Can you turn on the water,” Rhett says softly.

“Need encouragement?” Link laughs, the sound coming out far higher and more obnoxious than it should.

“I’ll pull that curtain back, asshole,” Rhett huffs, punching it.

Link feels weird, feels tight in his chest and warm everywhere else. “If you wanna see, just ask,”

Rhett shoves his hand through the curtain and yanks the faucet on, filling the bathroom with a roaring noise. Link screeches as the cold water floods his warm bath, moving to turn it off before stopping himself. The water was getting warm; Rhett had pushed it to the far left. In addition to the roar of the faucet, the distinct sound of Rhett relieving himself echoes through the small bathroom.

Link has this wild, crazy idea that he should look, take the smallest peek at Rhett’s cock. He doesn’t know why he feels this so forcibly or wants it, even. Perhaps it would be okay to want it if only for jest, but he wants to_ see_ it. Want to see Rhett holding himself, tapping his foot anxiously trying to ignore the fact that Link is naked a foot away, separated only by a thin curtain. 

The more he imagines this the more his stomach pools the warmth lower, threatens to draw his hands to his own cock. He hears the door click shut a couple of minutes later and grabs the faucet knob and sends the bathroom back into silence.

He isn’t that type of boy, he thinks. He is a good southern kid, a Christian man, a mama's boy. He’s never had a strong interest in dating or women; he’s always been more focused on sports and theatre. He likes the dramatic, the pretend, especially ever since he’d broken Christy’s heart without doing anything at all.

When Greg had told him that Christy, their friend of only two years, was crying outside the dorms allegedly because of him, he had decided right then and there he would focus exclusively on school. It wasn’t worth the headache of one half-kiss, back stage in the only production he ever assisted in during his sophomore year. He didn’t understand it and he didn’t like it- It wasn’t worth it.

_Girls weren’t worth it._

He slides deeper into the water and wraps one hand around himself, focused greatly on not overthinking it. He doesn’t think of anyone or anything specific, just the curves of his own body and the soft hair around the base of his fist. He just tries to breathe evenly and work himself over until his lips part and the waterline wets his cheeks, fills his mouth with tepid, metallic water.

When he comes it is because he imagines the door knob turning once again.


	7. Thunderstorm

The third week of Link’s work contract begins with a raging storm in the early hours of the morning. He blinks into the shadowy grayness of his bedroom as he listens to the branches smacking the vinyl siding of the house. He picks up his cell to check the time only to discover that the power has gone out. 

There’s another sound cutting through the buzzing static from the storm, audible now that Link is properly awake and listening. He shuffles across the room to investigate, immediately registering the distinct sound of muffled cries as he creaks the door open.

Rhett? Link’s heart begins to race, unprepared to deal with emotional turmoil at, well, whatever time it is. He quickly notes that Rhett’s door is open and pads down the hall to peer in, only to find that it’s empty with the bed still made from the previous morning. He hadn’t heard Rhett come home last night, maybe he stayed overnight wherever he ended up to avoid coming back in the storm. 

Another sob alerts Link to the source of the noise: whoever is crying is downstairs. He eases himself down the staircase and finds himself standing in the archway to the sitting room. 

“Momma Di?” Link says, mostly to himself. 

Her head snaps up and she sniffs once, a hand flying to her mouth. “Lincoln,”

“Is-uh- is everything okay?” Link’s eyes flicker just about everywhere except her face.

“Oh, don’t mind me,” She smiles sadly, her eyes glistening in the darkness.

Link thinks about his mom and goes to sit beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. A breathy sob ripples through her as she curls into his chest, crying harder when he rests his chin on her shoulder. 

“It’s okay,” He murmurs, “It’s okay.” 

She cries, but no longer adds to the pile of tissues on the coffee table as Link holds her. She shudders with every passing sharp crack of lightning and the resounding rumbles of thunder. He feels tears gather in his own eyes as he grips her tightly.

“Oh, Lincoln,” Diane sniffs, “I don’t mean to keep you up.”

“No, please. You shouldn’t go through this alone,” Link says. 

“You remind me of him, you know.” Diane pulls away but stays close, leaning back against the sofa. 

“Of Red?” Link catches himself. 

Diane smiles softly. “No, you’re not much like him. You remind me of Cole.”

All at once, it hits Link why the gloves mattered. He straightens up and asks, “Momma Di, who is Cole?” 

She grits her teeth together in what Link assumes is attempt to keep from crying and reaches for Link’s hand. “He is my firstborn. Or, was, but we don’t talk like that around here. I’m not surprised Red hasn’t told you about him, he’s pretty closed off about what happened.” 

“He’s dead?” Link says a little too bluntly, the words registering as insensitive the second they come out. 

Despite that, she smiles sadly and nods, like it's refreshing to hear someone be straightforward about it. “It’s three years next month.” 

Link fights back the desire to ask how he died, instead puts a hand on her back and rubs small circles the way his mother used to do for him after his dad walked out. Incomparable, maybe, but it was still the worst thing that had ever happened to him.

“Well, I’m here if you ever need to talk about it. And same to Red- but he’d never take me up on that. Doesn’t like me much,” Link says.

“You’re a sweet young man, I’m glad you’re here. And as for Red, just know he’s glad you’re here too. Won’t show it, but he is.” Diane gives him a pat on the thigh right as the lights come back on.  
-

The air surrounding the farm is heavy with moisture from last night’s rain as Link wades through it to grab his gear for the day. Rhett is still away, so Link is fending for himself today on the farm. He tries to start on the tasks and has trouble focusing, running on a lack of sleep and absorbed in the voicemail Greg had left him late last night long before Link had gone back downstairs.

Link picks up a fallen shovel and glares at it, Greg’s voice running through his head.

"Heya Link, jus’ call’n to say hey. Listen, the pump station gave me a few days off next week, I’d love to bring the Chevy down and see ya, if the folks are okay with that. I miss your scrawny ass. Aight, hope you’re doing alright out west. Gimme a call tomorrow, okay? Bye."

Link wants to see Greg; he fiercely wants to show his best friend the farm and spend time in familiar company. Despite this, he questions how he can approach the McLaughlins about it. It’s enough of a dilemma to preoccupy himself as he works.

Until mid-day, it’s just Link and a long roll of sandpaper tape refinishing the doors of the shed. The doors are laid out on some saw horses in the blaring sun, Link’s got one side of his coveralls falling over his shoulder as he puts some elbow grease into it.

“Howdy,” James drawls as he saunters over to the shed. He motions back toward the house. “Diane’s got some beef brisket in the crock pot for us.”

Link barely registers half the words James says, absorbed in his head. “Huh?” 

“Lunch,” James grunts, unnecessarily straightening the door and in the process shaking Link.

Link huffs and shoves a dusty hand through his hair. “Where’s Rhett?”

James laughs and takes a second to respond, “He lets you call him that?”

Link hesitates. “No.” 

“Ha!” James laughs, a glint sparkling in his eye that Link can’t place. “Come on then, let’s get the brisket.” 

Link doesn’t get his question answered.

-  
Momma Di is the best chef in the world. Link shoves brisket and potatoes into his mouth until he’s slumped back in the old wooden chair with half a mind to take a nap right there. She talks absently without mentioning what happened last night, and Link is grateful for it. 

“So, Lincoln,” She says as she shoves the pan towards him. “Do you have a girlfriend?” 

The first thing that comes to Link’s mind is Christy, of course. They were never official, obviously, never more than Link giving into something because he couldn’t think of a reason to say no. He squints. 

“Nope. Never had one, really,” Link shrugs, stares down at his empty plate.

“Never? You’re a handsome man!” She laughs, “Surely there’s someone back home?” 

Link suddenly feels repulsed by the conversation, feels the pressing need for Rhett’s company so they can all sit in silence like usual. “Nope.”

“‘Bout time to settle down, I’d say,” James says.

“I’m only twenty one,” Link shrugs, “I’m really focused on school.”

It’s not exactly a lie. Link’s just never found a girl he cares about enough to put that kind of effort in, even Christy. He had avoided the question of why until now, when two middle aged people were shoving it down his throat. He’s glad his mom never nagged him about dating.

“Being studious is good,” Momma Di seems to notice the way Link’s face contorts and politely allows him to change the subject.

“Speaking of back home,” Link braves, “my best friend wants to come see me for a weekend. Would it be alright if he came and saw the farm next week? 

“Of course honey,” Momma Di says, “I know you have to be homesick.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“How’d you meet this fellow?” James asks, his eyebrows furrowed in an accusatory way.

Link crosses his arms defensively, because he knows what assumptions bubble up when a handsome young man has never had a girlfriend, and says, “Random roommate my freshman year, it turned out that his girlfriend was really into soccer so we got close over sports.”

It is the perfect answer for James. The peppering in of the girlfriend, the masculinity soother of sports, it seemed to cut the cord dragging his eyebrows down and James smiles. “He’s welcome to visit next weekend.” 

Link lets the silence linger as his food digests, really just wanting to go finish work. His hands tug at the hem of his shirt in an attempt to try and straighten out the bubbles in his chest. Somewhere deep in his mind the thought churns to the surface of why the McLaughlins waited until Rhett was gone to ask him about a girlfriend. Was Rhett single? Link feels a surge of anger at the thought that Rhett might have been hiding a girlfriend from him this whole time. Surely not, Ellie would have said something. 

“I oughta go get back on the doors. Might rain again,” Link grunts, shoving back his chair and shoving his plate in the sink before bolting for the back door.

The panic subsides the second the sunshine drowns him under a clear blue sky. He takes a deep breath and hums some homemade mashup of Brooks and Dunn songs. He stares for a long time at the distressed white of newly sanded down wood and digs his phone out of his pocket.

“Hey Greg, wanna plan for next weekend? Folks said it’s a-okay. Can’t wait to see you,” Link flips the phone shut and gives his hands a flex in preparation for the rest of the day.

-

Rhett returns past midnight. Link knows this because he’s woken abruptly by a door slamming a little too hard. He sits up in a haze and just for a moment his eyes catch the headlights of the Subaru still on in the driveway right before they fade off. The anxiety from earlier blooms back from the residual slam.

“Red?” Link knocks softly at Rhett's door, the light underneath giving him permission. 

Rhett opens the door and looks rough. “What?”

“Just seeing if it was you,” Link smells the stagnant whiskey breath and almost recoils, memories flooding back of Mom’s first boyfriend after his dad left her, the one that drank a lot and called him Kid instead of Link, like it was somehow his god given name. 

“It’s me,” Rhett says, his words a little blurry and much louder than usual.

“We gotta be up early, you know,” Link swallows hard, on the verge of some stupid bout of tears with the desire to have companionship, feeling too much like a dog who has been chained up all day to a tree. Rhett smells absolutely flammable and it’s not helping the anxiety in Link’s chest. 

“Don’t I know,” Rhett scratches his head. “Need somethin’?” 

Link can’t quite articulate what he needs. Not to Rhett, not to himself. Not to the pitch back bedroom he returns to wordlessly two minutes later. The sheets are still warm, at least.


	8. Late May

Re-finishing the doors is much easier than stripping off the grimey varnish from before. Half the color was from squashed bugs and barn dust anyway, Link reckons. The new stain is a beautiful brownish red that glides on easily and soaks into the wood like the California desert drinks up the first rain of the year.

It’s satisfying.

Rhett returns with two cans of polyurethane and tosses them onto the grass.

“Looks good,” Rhett grunts.

“It’s a nice stain. I think we should do the barn doors as well,” Link says.

“We’d have to work all day so we could get ‘em back on at night,” Rhett frowns, “Or else the coyotes will get into the barn.”

“I miss only worrying about human beings,” Link chuckles, “I never thought a robber would be less worrisome than a pack of angry dogs.”

“Robbers don’t eat chickens,” Rhett retorts, stretching his long arms above his head as if he had carried the varnish all the way from the hardware store. His t-shirt rides up on his hips and Link has to physically advert his gaze.

“Yes they do!” Link forces a laughs, earning a harmless eye roll from Rhett.

“Well not these chickens.”

“Where’d you go yesterday anyway?” Link intently rubs the stain into the wood, changing the subject.

“I was here all day,” Rhett responds confidently.

“Yeah that’s why I had to do the sanding alone. I’m serious, man. Why is it some secret?” Link finally meets Rhett’s eyes.

“It’s _not_ a secret, just don’t like telling my business to everyone. I drove to Nashville, if it really matters to you.”

Link is startled by the sudden realization that for the first time in his life he is three hours from the literal stage of Merle Haggard and lets out a strangled gasp. “Nashville!”

Rhett almost laughs. “Ever been?”

“Barely left North Carolina, man. I’d love to see the country music capital of the world. Did you see someone play?” Link begins constructing a day trip in his mind before Rhett can even reply.

“Some local bands up at Cannery Row. Kind of fun,” Rhett shrugs.

“I can’t spend a summer in Tennessee without seeing at least the Country Music Hall of Fame and the Ryman, dude. I’ve gotta.”

“You’re more into this than the others. I guess they have been here most of their lives,” Rhett shrugs.

“And you haven’t?”

Rhett doesn’t respond.

They’re working overtime today so the doors will be ready tomorrow morning- in return Link can take the Friday Greg comes in to chill with him. The sun begins her steady descent to below the horizon and Link finds himself bathed in the golden light cascading over the rolling pastures. Soon, it will be dusk and the little gnats and thirsty mosquitos will flood their ankles and leave itchy kisses over their skin, but for now it is calm and peaceful out by the shed.

Link knows he has to put the first coat of shiny, viscous varnish on before it gets too dark outside, but he can’t help taking a second to glimmer in the last light of the day. The end of May ends school out here, sending children into the rivers and woods with wild abandon, an inalienable right to be as dirty and free as they’d like.

There’s something about summer nights, Link thinks. He is almost a third of the way done with his time here, he can’t believe how quickly time has passed. He feels bittersweet and syrupy on the inside already. He comes to with his arms out like he’s about to take flight, his skin warm and littered with freckles brought to the surface by long days outside. He eases down his arms to find Rhett staring at him. Rhett holds his gaze for just a second before flickering away, like the headlights outside the window that faded at the last second but gave everything away.

Link feels a tug somewhere in his chest and wants to pick up the sandpaper and grind it down.

-

“Boys!” Jim calls up from downstairs a few days later.

Link is using the computer for the second time in a month to send a nice email to his grandparents. He wishes he had some pictures to attach to prove he was alive and eating. He voices this thought aloud to Red before shrugging and carrying on with the email. He tells them about Greg’s visit next week and the great food Momma Di has cooked for him. When he hears Jim call out, a trickle of annoyance flits through him. It gives him a great burst of satisfaction when Rhett seems a tad annoyed too, for Link is validated in feeling like this must be what it’s like to have a dad to interrupt your lazy Saturday.

“Yeah?” Rhett calls from the floor beside the bed where he is organizing something.

“Just had the vet check Mini Wheat out- got ourselves a dam!”

“A damn what?” Link says softly.

“Nice!” Rhett calls, standing up as quickly as any 6’7 man can. “Mini Wheat is knocked up.”

Link grins at the news and follows Rhett down to the driveway where they join Jim on the four wheeler. Link slides into the front and Rhett climbs onto the back, squatting down and hanging onto the roll cage. They drive the seven minutes to the north pasture where the vet is writing something down next to his own ATV that is loaded up with veterinary supplies.

“Looks good, McLaughlin. I’m surprised it’s registering this early, but you’ll have a foal springtime next year," The vet explains.

“Next year!” Link gasps, his inexperience a blinding light over him.

“Yep, Pygmy’s have quite some time in the oven,” The vet laughs, wiping his hands on his jeans.

“Alright, let’s get back before it gets too dark out here," Jim suggests.

Jim and the vet head off on the vet’s ATV to go settle the bill while Rhett and Link stay behind. Rhett hops the fence and Link follows, stumbling and almost crashing to the grass on the other side as he awkwardly rolls over the fence he helped rebuild.

“Hey baby,” Rhett strokes Mini Wheat’s face. “You’re going to be a mom, pretty girl.”

Link want to pet her too, enticed by the golden fur on her back and her long white mane. He stays back until Rhett looks at him.

“Come on, Weakest. Give her a pet.”

Link scoots over and wraps his entire body over her gently.

“I love you,” he whispers.

Rhett huffs a laugh and lets it happen, his hand still on her mane.

“So docile, so warm,” Link murmurs, nuzzling her with his face.

“She’s already pregnant, you know,”

Link stops his cuddling to give Rhett an amused look. “Did you just make a horse fucker joke?”

Rhett shrugs passively. Link laughs loudly and buries his face back into the horse.

“You’re much warmer and nicer than him, Mini.” He looks up again to get some reward for his prodding, but a frown masks every other emotion littering Rhett’s face. “Come on, man. I’m just teasing. I’m sure you’re a pleasure to love.”

Rhett scowls, suddenly interested in checking on the fence work from weeks ago.

“You’ve gotta have had some women in your time, right? I mean who doesn’t want a tall, gloomy ginger in their bed?” Link refuses to let it go and straightens himself out, Mini being at his feet makes him feel more like he’s got someone on his side than he has in the past month.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Rhett murmurs.

“Yes, I’d love to know. Your parents all but grilled me about my love life the second you left. Heck, I don’t even care about if you’ve got a girlfriend or not. I just would like to have _one_ piece of voluntary information about your life, Rhett. Your freakin’ _mom_ had to tell me your brother died.”

“Don’t call me that,” Rhett snaps, pressing his back to the fence, desperately patching walls that disintegrated long ago within himself.

“Call you what? Your name? Is this what your life is, Rhett?” Link stays firmly behind the apathetic new mother. “You’re like a goddamn feral cat. Every time a human tries to make contact you snarl and hide under the sofa. Or maybe it’s just to me! What have I ever done to you, huh?”

Rhett moves his mouth but says nothing, eyes stoney.

“I like you, okay? The horse fucker joke was funny. You let me use your computer. We both like country music. Can you accept that it’ll be okay if you’re friends with the person you have to see every day until August?” Link’s exasperated, running out of breath with the sheer force of projecting his voice towards the angry eyes looking back at him.

“Link, you have no fucking _idea_ what I’ve been through, okay?” Rhett clamps his jaw shut like he never meant to say it at all.

“Then tell me, okay? Let me understand,” Link pleads.

Nighttime seems to collapse over them out of nowhere.

“I don’t want to tell you anything. I didn’t _want_ you here, okay? I have my friends and I have my work, those things stay very separate. I invited you out because I felt bad, but clearly that was a mistake.”

“Your friends, huh? Ellie told me that Stevie and Cassie are _lesbians_ together, you know. And Ellie is dating Sean. You might be friends with them but you’re all alone, Rhett. The fifth wheel, never inviting this stranger with no friends who you live with to come hang out? You know how that makes you look to them when you’re a dick to me?” Link’s breathless, fear pushing the words and the air right out of him. It occurs to Link that he’s mad, mad at this entire situation, blood boiling because he’s going to spend this entire summer virtually alone. So what if he’s being mean, he’s mad.

Rhett silently turns away and hops back over the fence with impressive grace. Link watches him get into the four wheeler and turn it to a roaring start before flooring it in the direction of the barn.

“Fuck you!” Link yells, knowing he can’t be heard. Only because he can’t be heard.

He fumes for fifteen minutes before the grass fleas tickling his ankles gets to be too much. Link crouches down in front of the horse and holds her face as he says, “Hey, Mini Wheat. I’m probably going to die tonight. Name your baby after me.”

He begins his trek back to the house, except it’s really dark now this far from the house. The stars are obstructed by deep gray clouds against the night sky. Link’s only 80% sure he’s headed toward the house and not the barn when the adrenaline wears off and he just feels cold, suddenly.

“Gosh, Link,” He murmurs to himself, once again having shoved his foot into his mouth. His own mindless contemplation is interrupted by a movement in the grass near his feet. Link stops dead and whips his head around, searching in the sea of black for whatever just moved. He keeps walking, faster now, until he has to cross a small irrigation ditch the four wheeler would have barely registered.

A deep sense of dread fills him up like a pitcher, the ice floating to the top and threatening to cascade over the edge of him. He takes one tentative step forward and steps on something, something that slithers out from beneath his foot and flares up in front of him. The snake lets out a giant hiss and the sound penetrates into Link and paralyzes him from the waist down. He tries to move and can’t, fear shuddering down his spine and eliciting a terrified cry before his feet finally obey him and he bolts, running as fast as he ever did in soccer.

It takes another ten minutes before he’s home and bursting through the front door. He kicks off his shoes and makes it to his room before his lack of breath and residual fear coursing through his bloodstream cause him to collapse on the floor and sob. Everything catches up to him and he weeps harder, one hand over his mouth to muffle the wrecked noises coming from him. He cries so much he’s sure he will suffocate on his own distress soon. Hiccups break up the sobs, turning them into sharp gasps.

He barely registers his bedroom door opening and Rhett sliding to the hardwood floor. He thinks it might be his imagination when strong hands pull him against a firm chest. He wants to cry harder when fingers begin to rub his back rhythmically.

“There w-was a snake,” Link gasps, sure he’s sweaty and wet against Rhett’s shirt.

“Shh,” Rhett squeezes his shoulder, “I shouldnt’a left you.”

“So dark, and hissing, and it was so big,” Link hiccups, anxiety on fire.

“Just a grass snake, can’t hurt you,” Rhett assures.

“N-not this one. This one could’a hurt me,” Link sniffs, finally catching his breath in a semi-regular way. He sits up, or tries to, just to immediately retreat back into Rhett’s arms.

“I’m sorry,” Rhett says, nothing more, nothing less.

Link opens his mouth to apologize but nothing comes out. He feels gross, now. Empty and exhausted.

Embarrassed.

“I’ve got walls up, Link.They aren’t coming down that fast,” Rhett’s voice is barely a whisper, like the words are coming out of their own accord.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” Link agrees, trying to steady his breath as he closes his eyes. It’s easier this way. He tucks himself against Rhett’s chest and expects him to smell like the sweat and grime coating his own skin, but he doesn’t. Rhett smells like laundry detergent and something like cologne, like tobacco and patchouli and something distinct he can’t place.

“I’m gross,” Link huffs, scrambling off of Rhett’s chest in some effort to preserve the lovely scent of the tall man. “I’m going to shower now.”

Rhett lets Link crawl out of his arms, watches Link stand up and take a long sniff to compose himself. Link steps over Rhett and leaves without a word, headed straight to the linen closet to gather a towel and drown himself under the showerhead.

The shower feels like something holy. Link forces his shoulders down, evens his breathing and allows the tension in his neck to drain down his back. He scrubs shampoo all over his body like he started with his hair and couldn’t stop himself from continuing. He clenches his jaw and sobs so hard it hurts his chest. He’s really tired, that’s all. He just needs to go to bed and sleep it off, probably. He sinks to the porcelain floor and shuts his eyes until the water turns lukewarm over his shoulders.


	9. Mead

Jim joins them at the barn near the quiet crack of dawn the next day, interrupting the silent collaboration that usually occupies the morning hours.

“Good morning boys,” he says, earning only a nod from the other men.

“Lincoln, I’m sure Red has told you that we’re leasing a could of draft horses out in Memphis.”

“I think I remember him saying somethin’ about that.”

“I’d like to have y’all go up there and check on them in a couple of weeks if you’re willing. I went out there myself last summer and the drive was the worst part, it’d be better with company I’d reckon. Think you two could head up on the last week of June?”

Rhett grunts affirmatively as he drags a barrel of hay to the ATV.

“Appreciate it,” Jim says.

Link nods before pausing and saying, “It it still okay if I take Friday off when Greg gets here?”

“Sure thing, son. Good work on the doors boys, go get the animals fed,” Jim nods before heading away from the barn.

The following silence leaves something to be desired. Links desperately doesn’t want to talk about what happened last night.

“Your friend is coming to visit?” Rhett asks suddenly.

Link’s breath catches and he scrunches his face into an apologetic wince. “Oh, yeah, man, I guess I asked your parents and forgot to tell you.”

Rhett shrugs like that doesn’t bother him, but Link notes the way he slides into the ATV without a word. He starts the engine and Link lurches forward to join him before the man can escape.

“It’s just Friday and Saturday night, you’ll like Greg a lot. Plays basketball for NC State,” Link goes on, gripping the frame as Rhett drives faster than usual.

“I don’t play basketball,” Rhett huffs.

“Okay that’s the worst lie I’ve ever heard. You’re freakin’ twenty feet tall, man,” Link shoves him in the shoulder.

Rhett gives him a face. “I did in high school, not anymore.”

Link almost topples out as the vehicle lurches to a stop. “Well, we ought to play again some time. I’m not half bad, Greg makes me practice with him like crazy.”

“Why’d we start talkin’? I liked the silence. Put more twine over this bale and throw it into the cow pasture, won’t you?” Rhett says as he rolls up the sleeves on his dark flannel shirt. He runs a hand through his beard and watches Link fight with the weight of the bale.

-

Link jerks awake on Friday and grins when he realizes it’s half past nine and he awoke to the sound of his phone vibrating violently on his bedside table.

“Hey buddy!” Link smiles into the receiver.

“Hey Link! I’m on the road!” Greg says. “Should be there around four.”

“I’m siked, man! Be careful once you exit the highway, these back roads ain’t much. Look for my car on Apricot lane and you can park right behind me.”

Greg gives his thanks and hangs up, leaving Link buzzing with excitement for a day off and his best friend. When he wanders downstairs, he sees Rhett grabbing his car keys from the mud room.

“And where are _you_ going?” Link crosses his arms and taps his foot like a mother.

Rhett cracks a smile. “_Gosh_, mom, I’ll be back before midnight.”

Satisfied with Rhett's amusement, Link drops the act and shoves his hands in his pockets. “Are you working today?”

“I did dawn duties and now I’m tapping out,” Rhett takes another step toward the front door.

“Oh, when will you be back? I want you to meet Greg-”

“Sunday, probably. Stevie’s sister lives in Nash. There’s a festival this weekend,” Rhett looks like giving more information than the bare minimum is like passing a kidney stone, but Link appreciates it.

“Well, I guess you won’t meet him then,” Link says rather dejectedly. “Can I stay in your room while he’s here?”

Rhett frowns. “I guess. Wash the sheets when you’re done.”

Link grins. “Got it, boss.”

-

Right after Rhett leaves, Link goes to use the computer with lazy abandon, leaning back in the desk chair. He types in Nashville June Festival and waits. The page loads after a minute and Pride 1998 with a giant backdrop of a flag flashes. _Pride?_ Link registers in his mind just as-

An error pops up and the whole tab crashes, sending Link back to the desktop with a single folder waiting to be opened.

“Hmm,” Link purses his lips, immediately distracted from the internet search and feeling curious. He notes the file’s name is only Harvest 1994 and clicks, immediately confronted with a whole slew of photos from a few years back. The first few pictures are of Rhett, with shorter hair and skinner limbs, a wide smile on his face as he laughs next to another teenager with similar cheek bones.

Then it’s just Cole, or who Link presumes is Cole, with shiny cheeks and bright eyes. He’s got a glass of something in his hand at the kitchen table downstairs, the same place Link sat for dinner last night. Link slides down the thumbnails and clicks on one from much later in the year, a picture of Cole sitting in their dad’s lazy boy. His eyes look tired here, his frame seems smaller when he is swallowed by the chair. Something makes Link stares at the picture a little longer.

The door to the house slams suddenly and Link panic turns off the monitor, an ingrained fear response from back when he was a kid. The same boyfriend who had called Link Kid hated when Link messed around in his computer room. It wasn’t Link’s fault his mama had never had a computer, or that the guy didn't have any toys in his house.

“Dammit,” Link hears from downstairs. He eases up from the chair and goes to look over the landing.

“You’re back, how was Nashville?” Link teases.

Rhett rolls his eyes, “Car won’t start, I need to wait until dad gets back from the expo and see if he knows what’s wrong with it.

“Well cool. I was just surfin’ the web,” Link smoozes, trying to sound cool. Rhett looks at him with a face that really, really wishes he wouldn't.

-

“Greg!” Link about tackles his muscular friend. Greg may be shorter than Link by an inch or two, but he makes up for it with wicked delts and gorgeous green eyes.

“Link!” Greg enthusiastically reciprocates. “Brother it has been a _minute, _you quite a sight for sore eyes.”

Link shows him around the inside first, taking his bag up and tossing it in his room. He gestures wildly to his luscious accommodations, making Greg double over in a fit of laughter in the tiny room.

“The owners will be back soon, they’re at a farming expo out in Knoxville,” Link says as he ushers Greg out the door again. “They’re great.”

“I’m dying to try Diane’s food, with everything you’ve said about it,” Greg grins.

Link shows Greg the ATV and waggles the keys in his hand to boast. “I ride this baby all over these fields.”

They both yelp as the garage bay opens unexpectedly. Rhett’s standing there staring at them both like he was looking to bust them for something. Everyone is silent for a second until Rhett speaks.

“Hi, Red,” Rhett sticks out a hand, the same way Link had when he first encountered Rhett. Unlike the way Rhett had reacted, Greg takes it willingly.

“Hey! Good to meet you, heard lots,” Greg says.

Link shoves him a little, says under his breath, “No he hasn’t.”

Rhett walks past them to reach the medical supplies. “I’m here for the ass thermometer- the vet wants me to check Mini’s temp.”

“Ooh, _butt thermometer_. Feeling like a farm boy already,” Greg looks around like the shed is a museum of oddities.

“Come on, Greg, I want to show you this cool stream I found out in the west pasture.” Link grabs his arm, feeling self conscious with Rhett lingering around. He doesn’t miss the sharp look Rhett gives him.

“Don’t- don’t do that,” Rhett clears his throat. “Come on, he doesn’t want to see that.”

Link thinks there’s something weird in the way Rhett says that and decides to graciously cover. “Right, you need it to go get Mini’s temperature. We’ll go back, rest. After dinner we want to go get beer and play cards.”

“You can join us if you want!” Greg adds unhelpfully- Link bites back another arm punch.

Rhett hums and takes the keys from Link’s hand, their skin connecting briefly. Link feels the touch until the ATV is long gone and it’s only the two of them left in the shed.

“Link, I think you have some stuff to catch me up on,” Greg says after watching Link's gaze for a minute, breaking Link’s lingering stare out the garage bay.

“Yeah, I think I do,” Link takes a steadying breath.

-

They finish three beers each and realize that they feel next to nothing.

“Man, I shoulda gotten more,” Link whines, “It took us twenty minutes to get to the Wal-Mart.”

“And we can’t drink and drive,” Greg frowns. “It’s okay though! I think we’ve both beefed up a little bit in the time we’ve been apart. Ruined our tolerance.”

“You practicing’ a lot?” Link leans back on his hands in the tiny room.

“Every day. Not much to do without you around. I just work at the station and shoot hoops.”

Link feels warm at the implication that he’s missed. “Yeah, I do a lot of lifting here.”

There’s a soft knock on the door and Link shouts that it’s open.

“Hey,” Rhett’s standing there with his hands in his pockets. “Room for one more?”

Link grins, “Seriously?”

“Shut up,” Rhett glares, but softens his expression quickly.

“Sure man, but not sure we can all fit on this floor. And we’re out of alcohol,” Greg laughs feebly, scratching at the back of his neck.

Rhett rolls his eyes and leaves without a word.

“He is a cheery sonofa, ain’t he?” Greg leans over to mess with Link’s long hair. “You need a haircut, man.”

Link laughs and leans into the touch, feeling the beer more every second. “You don’t know the half of it.”

“I bet I don’t. You want to talk about it?” Greg asks.

Link sits up straighter and considers it. “I’m just lonely, man. Weird being far away from you and Christy.”

“I saw the way you watched him leave, man. You keep tellin’ me you hate the guy, he’s the worst jerk. Then you look at him like that? I’m gonna need more-”

Saved by the grace of God himself, Rhett re-enters the room at just that minute with a gallon jug of dark amber liquid and three plastic cups. He says, “come to my room.”

When the three of them are in a circle on Rhett’s much bigger floor, Rhett starts pouring out the liquid. “It’s mead. We’ll have to get another jug going tomorrow, but we can drink this tonight.”

Link gets the first sip and grimaces at the sugary alcohol. “Oh my word,” he sputters.

Rhett pours another cup and hands it to Greg. “Here, drink this. It’ll put some color in your cheeks.”

“I thought Tennessee was the moonshine state? Why are y’all making bathtub mead,” Greg takes a sip and somehow manages to keep a neutral face.

Rhett shrugs, downing a third of his cup at once. “It’s my favorite.”

“It’s good,” Link lies, his voice catching as he swallows multiple times to get the taste out of his mouth.

“Gets better the more you drink it, weake- Link,” Rhett coughs.

Link laughs, finally connecting the nickname. _Weakest Link_. He shakes his head and takes another hefty sip, letting the burn radiate all the way to his stomach.

It takes an hour and a half before the gallon has about a third left and they’re all cackling over something ridiculous. Link was telling some story of how they tried to ride a pig by breaking into Mr. Jensen’s pasture their senior year of high school.

“‘Small town, we almost got rejected from the wolf pack for it,” Greg snickers as he remembers how quickly they got out of there when Farmer Jensen cocked a gun at them.

“We were going to play a senior prank and put a pig in the school, but we lost our pig connection after that incident,” Link grins.

Heavy footsteps outside their door make Rhett weakly try to hide the container of mead.

“What the hell is going on up here?” Jim peers over his reading glasses and just stares at the three adults drunk on the floor.

“Well, sir,” Greg, ever the charmer, says, “We’re catching up.”

Jim gives each of them a very calculated look before shrugging and saying, “Well, keep it down a bit. Diane and I are going to bed.”

“That went a lot better than I thought it might,” Rhett grins, “He’s nicer to you than he is to me.”

“That’s because I’m a _pleasure_,” Link slurs.

“Yeah, that’s what your mom tells you,” Greg cackles, downing the rest of his cup and holding it out to Rhett for more.

The motion of the mead sloshing in the container makes Link hyper aware of the contents of his stomach right now. Warm saliva floods his mouth as the hairs on his arms stand.

“Rhett!” Link points at the big man, “I’m gonna throw up!”

Rhett’s eyes go wide, “Bathroom, now!”

Link scatters to his feet and bolts out of the room, leaving Greg and Rhett alone. Link makes it to the toilet before retching pathetically. He slides to the floor a minute later, still drunk enough to laugh sloppily as he remembers the last time he was sitting in this bathroom.

He’d wanted to see Rhett’s weiner. He starts laughing harder, remembering how worked up having Rhett a foot away while he was naked made him. Why had he masturbated right after that? He can’t remember. Link stops laughing as he thinks about Rhett’s dick again, starts thinking about how nice his eyes are when he’s flushed with alcohol. He mentally trails over every inch of the man in his brain, a vivid image of Rhett shirtless at the lake, and the realization of what’s happening hits him like a truck.

He leans over the toilet and vomits.


	10. Pep Boys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick PSA: I am not a horse doctor. I know more horse doctors than the average person, but that does not make me any more of a horse doctor. I have consulted the horse doctors in my life to keep certain aspects of this story more realistic, but I do apologize for any inaccuracies. Thank you for your cooperation.

It’s not surprising after nearly four years of friendship, but Greg is absolutely too cheery the next morning. Maybe it’s because Link had to sleep on the floor beside his bed, but Greg’s cheerful voice makes him want to groan as they all eat breakfast. 

“Mrs. McLaughlin, this is _without a doubt_ the best french toast I’ve ever had in my life,” Greg flashes his sparkly eyes and drizzles more of the thick, local syrup on his plate. Link bites back a visceral reaction, his stomach still queasy as he pokes as his own plate. 

Diane beams, shoving the plate of sausages rolling around on a greasy paper towel toward him. Link swallows hard and looks to Rhett for a solidarity, but Rhett is staring down at his lap texting. 

“My Subaru just needs a new battery,” Rhett says as he looks up. “Any chance we could run to the Pep Boys in your truck?”

Link takes a second to realize that Rhett is speaking to him. He shrugs, glancing over at Greg. “Sure, I’m gonna shower first though.” 

Link stalls in the shower, trying to recover a little more before he’s vibrating over gravel and doomed to spew breakfast all over his steering wheel. He scrubs at his thick underarm hair and hums to himself, weary of the cold world beyond the shower curtain when the water begins to cool. 

“Talked to Red,” Greg says when Link walks into his room with a towel around his waist. 

“Yeah?”

“We’re gonna go to the auto parts shop and then to Wal-Mart to get stuff to make a new batch of mead.” 

“Gosh, man, don’t mention the mead,” Link grins and throws a hand through his wet hair. “I’m just now starting to feel stable.”

“You got pretty drunk, man. You ran off and Red and I just kept going,” Greg laughs from the bed, an unease tainting his voice. “We talked about you a little bit.”

Link blanches, stopping mid- pants pull to give Greg a disgusted look. “You did _what_?!” 

Greg startles at Link’s reaction and forces out a breathy laugh. “I was kiddin’, man. Mostly. I just mentioned that I was your other roomie, and he better make sure you’re not eating too much cereal and that he shouldn’t tolerate your shower singing any more than I do.” 

“Oh yeah, what’d he say to that?” Link resumes getting dressed. 

“He said uh,” Greg messes with a loose thread on the duvet, “He’d never seen you eat cereal, and he’d never heard you sing in the shower.” 

Link frowns, aware that he had refrained from two of his favorite activities in the past month, never thinking that those are things someone else might miss about him. He’d barely sung at all since he got here, actually. Link clears his throat and says, “Well, bet he’s glad he doesn’t have to deal with that, then.” 

Greg smiles sadly and nods, standing and straightening his Wolf Pack baseball hat. “Ready to go?” 

Link nods, all of the hungoverness inside of him now replaced with something heavier in his chest. 

-

The Pep Boys ten miles out looked about like any Pep Boys might, somehow worn down and uncomfortably shiny at the same time, a few older men in stained coveralls loitering by the garage bays. One of them looks up and squints into the sunlight as Link’s old truck rumbles up. 

“Howdy, fellas,” The taller man says, “What can I do ya?” 

“Just here for a new battery for the Subaru, Glen,” Rhett hops out of the bed of the truck and gives the man an aggressive handshake. 

“Well, saw that one comin’. All that drivin’ you do, running that odometer up!” 

“Well, maybe one day I’ll move to the city so I don’t have to wear her out,” Rhett shrugs. 

“He’s got a girl in the city, I reckon,” The shorter man says to Link as the two young men wait by the car for Rhett to return with his battery. 

“Maybe so,” Link says, knowing that it ain’t so. 

“He drives to Nashville more than anyone else in this little town,” The guy continues, “The McLaughlin's bought the farm of the McClemmon's ‘bout half a decade ago and, well, the whole town likes Jim and Diane.”

Link has trouble focusing on the conversation, thinking initially that half a decade is a weird way to say five years. He catches back up when the guy mentions Rhett again. 

“Red’s a character, though. Always in here gettin’ something for his car, maybe killin’ time to chat with Jennifer at the counter. Stopped doin’ that so much when you showed up though. Keepin’ him in line, arentcha?” The man gives a wet laugh and slaps Link on the shoulder. 

Link nods blindly and tries not to seem too rushed back to the driver’s seat when he sees Rhett emerge from the shop. He slides back into the cab right after Greg and listens to Rhett thank the men and then hop into the bed again, the suspension giving a slight bounce as an indication. 

“Everyone around here gossips just like back home. Guess the south is the south,” Greg muses. 

“I don’t like how he talked about Red gettin’ out of here. Like it’s such a bad thing to want to escape your hometown,” Link huffs, turning onto the main road to head to the only Wal-Mart in town. 

“You escaped out here, no wonder that struck a nerve with you. It still sucks from the other end, though. Thinking your people don’t like being your people,” Greg says. 

Link grips the steering wheel a little tighter, hoping to God that Rhett can’t hear them out the back window. “Wanting bigger and better doesn’t mean you’re not proud of where you’re from.” 

“You didn’t exactly go to bigger and better, man. You chose an even smaller town seven hours away over spending our last summer together on the Cape Fear River. I know you wanted to get out, don’t mean it didn’t hurt a little to watch you go.” Greg finishes softly, eyes still locked outside. 

Link swallows, the heaviness from earlier pushes harder on his lungs and he fights against the lump in his throat to say, “I’m sorry, Greg.” 

“Nah, man. Listen, I’m your best friend. I’m not going to lie to you about being completely fine with it, but the only reason it hurts is because I love you so damn much. Besides, Amber is thrilled she’s not competing with you for my attention,” Greg laughs, giving Link a soft punch to the arm. 

“I’m sorry,” Link says again dumbly, eyes locked on the road so Greg can see his red eyes. 

-

“Y’all ever brewed mead?” Rhett says as he makes a beeline for the cart corral, dropping his cigarette to the pavement and stubbing it out with his boot. His golden hair is blown every which way from the wind, making him look a little rough around the edges. 

“Not a day in my life,” Greg dawls, taking the cart to jump up and ride it forward a few dangerous feet. 

“Well here’s a crash course,” Rhett takes the cart back once they enter the fluorescent, scuffed tile hell that is a middle-of-nowhere Wally World. He pushes the cart into the baking aisle first- much to the confusion of his trailing students. “First step is yeast. You can get brewing yeast at some places, but mostly you can use little yellow packets of bread yeast.” 

They gather ingredients like a scavenger hunt through rows of blankets, pots and pans, art supplies, and canned foods. The last item on the list is a latex balloon, and then they’re headed for the checkout. 

Rhett throws in some rolling papers and a Butterfinger at the register. He pays for everything and ignores Link’s feeble thank you. 

Out in the parking lot, Greg throws the bag of stuff in the passenger seat and turns to Rhett. “Hey man, can I bum one of those rolls for the ride home?” 

Link feels a pang of sadness as Rhett nods and they get in the bed of the truck together, nestling right under the window and out of Link’s vision. He wonders intensely if they’re talking, and _what_ or _who_ they’re talking about. 

-

“What are you doing that for?” Link leans on the kitchen counter back home and watches Rhett pour a little bit of water into a glass with a splash of honey and yeast. 

“Gettin’ the yeast ready. Just watch,” Rhett seems a bit in a hurry, not explaining himself as he finishes off a gallon of the murky yellow liquid and slaps a line of duct tape on it. He writes the date and secures one of the latex balloons over the mouth. 

“Alright, so round two when this is ready?” Greg says as he haphazardly eats the chips he grabbed from the pantry moments ago.

“If you want to come back in a month or so, then yes,” Rhett grunts as he slides it to the back of the pantry, next to a few more similar jugs. 

“Sure, I’ll come back and visit the Linkster anytime,” Greg says. 

Rhett shrugs like his joke was poorly received and shuts the pantry door. “Well, that’s it for me. Got the battery, replaced the alcohol, I’m headed West.” 

“Dramatic way to say you’re going to Nashville,” Link huffs, instantly upset that Rhett is leaving so soon. 

Rhett rolls his eyes and holds out a hand for Greg. “Good to meet you, man. ‘Could’a used those delts up here on the farm, not sure how we got this one instead.” He nods toward Link and Link crosses his arms indignantly. 

“Next year, man. We’ll see where this Poli Sci degree gets me. Might move here full time,” Greg releases Rhett’s arm and Rhett leaves, grabbing his backpack before slamming the front door behind him. 

Link glowers at the door long after he’s gone, unaware of Greg watching him with the same expression. 

“Let’s go take the ATV out back and have a chat, Link,” Greg suggests, putting a warm hand on Link’s shoulder. 

It takes a minute for either of them to speak when Link comes to a stop next to the North pasture’s fencing. Link cuts the engine and takes a deep breath before exhaling. 

“You’re not telling me something,” Greg ventures, voice steady. 

Link gives a feeble nod and leans over to rest his head on his friend’s shoulder. “I probably should have stayed home this summer. I miss you, I miss mama.” 

“You needed this. I shouldn’t have said anything earlier- I just needed to get it off my chest. But you know what, Link? I’m so proud of you.”

Link keeps his face pressed into Greg's shoulder, but smiles. “Take me back home with you?” 

“And leave Red all alone? I’d never,” Greg teases. 

“He’d love being all alone, he’s a big bully,” Link huffs. 

“Somethin’s tellin’ me you don’t really mean that.” 

Link straightens up and sniffs. “I guess he’s not so bad.” 

“Tell me what you really think about him,” Greg prods, “I saw the way you looked at him.” 

Link tenses up suddenly, anxiety flooding through him. “I don’t!” 

Greg blinks. “Don’t what?” 

“I don’t _think_ about him!” Link’s defenses rear and he feels like a liar, knows Greg can see right through him. He closes his eyes and prays for one easy conversation, one single conversation that he doesn’t have to choke his way through. 

“O-_kay_,” Greg pats his own thighs off beat, “whenever you want to talk more about that, I’ll be waiting for a call. You miss Christy any?” 

Link ignores the question as he focuses his eyes through smudged glasses out far into the pasture and stares for a minute. It’s not feeding time, but the horses know that the sound of the ATV means attention and food. They should have been down here already. He slides out of the ATV and hops over the horse fence, this time gracefully. Greg follows without a word and doesn’t protest when Link starts power walking toward a small group of trees. 

“Takin’ me out here to kill me?” Greg hollers.

“Yes,” Link responds firmly, getting to one tree in particular and dropping to his knees. 

“Woah, a baby horse!” Greg drops down and lays a hand on her. 

“No, something is wrong with her. She’s pregnant. She doesn’t stay down when we pull up,” Link’s breath hitches. “We’ve gotta call the vet.” 

“Okay, yeah, let’s go back and call the vet,” Greg agrees, barely scrambling to his feet as he chases after Link in the pasture. 

Link jams the keys into the ATV with shaky hands and brings it to a roaring start. As he waits for Greg, he wishes fiercely that Rhett was here too. 


	11. Birchwood

Link pushes past the front door in a panic, vaguely aware of Greg lingering behind him. 

Jim looks up from his paper in the den and gives a tired smile. “Hiya Lincoln.” 

“Hi, uh, something’s wrong with Mini Wheat- she’s just lying there breathing heavily-” Link pants, wiping at his forehead as he registers the door opening again behind him. 

“Oh, I’m sure she’s fine, son. She’s a pregnant mare, she’s tired of the heat. Was she in the shade?” 

“Well, _yes_, but-” Link looks back at Greg for backup. 

“I mean, I don’t know much about horses…” Greg shrugs, eliciting a frustrated sound from Link. 

“She’ll be alright. I’ll check on her when I feed them tomorrow morning,” Jim turns back to his paper, nonplussed by the news. 

“Can’t you go check her temperature or something?” Link pleads, getting worked up as he wrings his hands. 

Jim looks up and gives him a look. Link’s used to that look from his mom- it means _Don’t Push Me_. The look sends a wave of helplessness and panic through him and his mouth falls open to protest. 

“Come on, man,” Greg tugs at Link’s arm, earning an approving nod from Jim. “She’s fine.” 

Link follows Greg back outside and sits down on the brick steps, burying his head in his hands. Greg puts an arm around his shoulders and says, “Hey, breathe. She’s fine, he knows his horses. Mini Wheat was just sleeping, it’s hot as balls out here.” 

“No, no, I feel like something is wrong. I just know it is- and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to take her temperature- or-,” Link bites back a sob, his chest tight. 

“There’s nothing you can do about it,” Greg tries to be comforting and fails. "You can't always have control over situations like this." 

“You’re _wrong_,” Link leans to fish his phone out of his back pocket. He holds his phone with blurry eyes and shaky hands and picks a contact he’d known before he came here and still has never used. 

“Link, can you calm down?” Greg rolls his eyes, removing his hands from Link. “I came here to have fun, not watch you panic because a horse is sleeping.” 

Link shoots him a glare just as the ringing stops and a voice answers. 

“Hello?” Rhett’s voice sounds confused, professional. 

“Red,” Link’s voice reeks of relief. 

“Link?” Rhett says. 

Link takes a minute to compose himself, tries to not sound so crazy when he says, “I went to the north pasture right after you left and Mini didn’t come down, found her under the bigger trees just lying there.” 

“What was she doing?” Rhett’s voice is a special kind of calm that Link desperately needs right now. 

“Breathing all heavy, her eyes were kind of glazed over,” Link says. Greg rolls his eyes and gets up to go back inside.

“Okay, well, sounds like she’s just a bit hot. Was the trough full?” 

“Yeah, and the shade was plentiful,” Link stresses. 

“Did you tell dad?” 

“Yeah, he says she’s probably fine and he’ll check in the morning, but I think it needs to be now. I want the vet to come look-” 

“It’s expensive to get Dr. Hilt out to the farm, but dad should go check her out at least,” Rhett says. 

“He wouldn’t listen to me, can you call him and tell him? He’ll do what you ask,” Link clutches his phone in his right hand and stares at the brick beneath his feet, tracing patterns with his sneakers to keep his mind from flying off the rails. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m sure Mini is fine,” Rhett sighs, but it doesn’t hold the same irritation that Greg’s voice did moments before.

“_Rhett_,” Link pleads, his voice soft. “I really have a bad feeling.” 

Rhett tightens at his real name and clears his throat. “No, if dad says she’s fine, I trust him. Besides, I’m on vacation, I can’t bring the problems of the farm to the city.” 

Link nods despite the fact Rhett can’t see him and clamps his eyes shut. For a long moment there’s nothing but silence; then, a wet breath gives Link away. He grits his teeth together as the tears streaming down his face catch in his fingers and smear across his cheek. 

“Link,” Rhett’s voice comes through the receiver so softly Link wonders if he imagined it.

Link sobs with his left hand clasped over his mouth and considers just hanging up. 

“Fine, okay? I’ll call him. Stop- stop it. I’ll convince him to go check on her,” Rhett gives in. It almost makes Link cry harder. 

“Thank- thank you, Red,” Link manages after a minute of pulling himself together. He's practically dizzy with relief. 

“Don’t mention it, Weakest.” The line goes dead and Link flips his damp phone shut before shoving it in his pocket. He wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his t-shirt and quietly returns to his bedroom. 

For a steady while he lies on the bed and listens to the sounds of the house: Diane cooking dinner in the kitchen, Greg talking to his advisor on the phone in Rhett’s room about a potential co-op in the spring, and Jim’s phone ringing downstairs, his heavy form trekking across the house to pick it up. Link shoves his face into his pillow so he doesn’t have to hear the following conversation. There is only so much he can force himself to experience in one day. 

The front door swings shut a few minutes later and Link wonders if skipping dinner is suspicious. Maybe they’ll see Greg and not even notice Link isn’t there- if that’s the case, he might as well go ahead and skip the next two months.

“Well, he definitely headed that way,” Greg stands at the door to Link’s room and gives an apologetic smile. 

“If there’s nothing wrong with her, I’ll give you two of my Merle records,” Link rolls onto his back and holds out a hand. 

Greg shakes and and shoves Link over to lie down next to him. “Deal. Sorry for being an ass.” 

“I’m used to it,” Link rolls his head to look at him with bloodshot eyes.

“Good,” Greg says softly, patting Link’s thigh once, twice, and then leaving his hand there quietly. 

-

Link is playing cards with Greg at the kitchen table when a large gray livestock trailer rolls up to the front of the house. Link almost reveals his full house as the sight distracts him through the foyer windows. A tall man exits the F-750 attached to the trailer and almost makes it to the front door before Jim comes out from behind the house and stops him. 

“Mama Di, what’s going on?” Link gives up on hiding his cards and scoots his chair back from the table to get a better look. 

“I reckon we’ll find out in just a minute,” Diane throws a tea towel over her shoulder and returns to the kitchen. 

Sure enough, Jim walks in a few minutes later with a furrowed brow covered in sweat. He stays on the welcome mat, not wanting to track his dirt-covered boots through the house. “Diane?” 

“What’s wrong, honey?” Diane pokes her head around the corner and frowns at the dirt caked into the knees of his Levi’s. 

“Mini Wheat’s probably got colic- doc thinks it’s impaction. Hilt brought his trailer over, we’re going to send her over to the medical hospital at the college and let them figure out what’s up.” 

“Oh dear,” Diane frowns, “I hope she’ll be okay.” 

“She will. Glad we, uh, _Lincoln_ noticed when he did. She woulda’ had a bad night out there,” Jim can’t see Link from where he blushes and ducks his head at the table. 

Link barely notices Greg's look of guilt because he is too busy pulling out his phone and opening his first ever text to Rhett. He types i_t was really nice of you to talk to your dad_, and then erases it and says _thanks man_. He stares at that a long time before he deletes the draft entirely and puts his phone back in his pocket. 

He’d make it up to him soon.

-

It’s nice having Greg alone for his last night in Tennessee. They eat popcorn and watch Jurassic Park on the sofa downstairs. For a while it feels like when they had more time to hang out back in their dingy old apartment. It was mostly just the two of them at first, but then Greg used to have girls over, sometimes. At the end of the night it was always them again, though, and Link looked forward to that the most. 

Link looks around the dim living room and finds himself staring at Greg’s half-asleep form for too long. 

“Hey,” Link whispers, shoves Greg’s thigh with his foot. 

“W-what?” Greg blinks, pushing himself up on one elbow. 

“I think I’m happy I made the decision to come here for the summer,” Link says. 

Greg squints and then laughs once. “Oh yeah?” 

“I’m serious. I’ve never been so anxious in my life, but I really feel like I’m growing from it,” Link presses, reaching over to mute the TV. 

“That’s never something I thought I would hear Link Neal say,” Greg says. 

“I know, me either. But that’s growth, right? I realized this is just like when we moved into our first apartment together and we’d watch movies. But it’s _not_, not really, and instead of making me sad, I’m kind of happy about it,” Link rambles, hands reaching out to use the darkness as a prop for his revelation. 

“Good for you, buddy. Does this mean you’re not ready for bed yet?” Greg rubs at his eyes, reaching around for a couch blanket and coming up empty handed. 

“I could sleep,” Link shrugs, humoring him with a smile playing on his lips as he remains caught up in his epiphany. 

“It’ll be better than sleeping on the hardwood. You were so drunk though, you didn’t mind,” Greg slides off the couch and stretches his arms far above his head, his shirt rides up and Link throws a pillow square at his stomach.. 

“I _did_ mind,” Link huffs. “Although you can, uh, have the queen size bed if you want.” He carefully avoids calling it _Red's bed_. 

Greg picks up the throw pillow and gingerly places it back on the sofa.“I think you should take his bed, Link.” 

Link’s glad the cover of night hides how deeply red he turns at that. “I have no preference.” 

“Liar. Take his bed, idiot,” Greg shakes his head and walks upstairs, leaving Link alone to simmer in his own indignation. 

-

Link feels weird in Rhett’s room alone with the door closed. 

“I shouldn’t,” he murmurs to nobody as he heads for the door. He reminds himself that Rhett gave him permission- and he’d just showered so he’ll keep the sheets clean- and turns back toward the bed. He cuts the lights off and stares at the giant bed with wide eyes. 

He peels back the quilt and slides into the gray sheets, immediately overwhelmed with how much bigger and cozier Rhett’s bed is than his own. And the smell- the sheets smell just like him. Link rolls into the pillow and inhales languidly. If winter had a scent, this would be it.    
  
Link imagines rolled cigarettes and pine leaves, rubber boots and wet soil, something warm and barely natural: a candle designed to smell like vanilla and birchwood. He wraps Rhett’s duvet around him and lets his eyes flutter shut, lets the tension in his jaw drain alongside all the thoughts in his mind.

He sleeps soundly. 


	12. Daddy Issues

If Link were to cut open his chest and remove his heart, unfold it neatly into four pulsing strips of flesh, he knows exactly what he would see in three of the quadrants. The first one would be his aging golden retriever back home, Tucker. It’d be covered in a thick coat of his soft white hairs, just like all of Link's black t-shirts when he goes home from college. 

The second section would be overflowing with all of his favorite material things: chunky white sneakers, Merle Haggard’s more elusive hits, and jars of peanut butter and soft white bread, the crusts sliced off just the way he likes it and handed to him lovingly by, well, the third quadrant, his mom. If Link knows _anything_, he knows he loves his mama. His biological dad used to be there too, and then after he faded away a few of mom's men after him spent some time in the Parent part of Link’s heart.

It felt half full for a while there, free to fill up with tears and anxiety as he sat by the river alone. Eventually, though, Link grew up. He towered over his mom and most of her boyfriends, no longer feeling too small or afraid to stand up for himself, or their house. When he moved into the dorms his freshman year, his heart ached for home- but it only ached for her. 

But Link’s a man of structure and design, a realist and an engineer. So while he doesn’t exactly _love_ sitting in a hay loft doing some deep introspection- he knows he must. He sits there, and lies there, and opens and closes his notebook five times before he finally puts pen to paper and draws a rough heart with four parts. 

  1. Mama 
  2. Tucker
  3. Peanut Butter
  4. ???

In a perfect world it’d be a girl there, _his girl_, maybe Christy or Jessica L, from his geography class sophomore year. At the very least, some celebrity with big tits and a kind smile. 

He knows what it should be, but it feels like he’s trying to cram the wrong puzzle piece into the missing hole because that’s the only piece he can find. Maybe that’s not really the last piece, Link thinks, maybe he’s gotta look harder. Under the coffee table, between the cushions of the couch. 

Link thinks that he could sit in this hayloft until the cows come home and he still wouldn't be able to explain why he wants to jack himself off to the thought of a man’s body- that’s just not on his radar of what is normal or acceptable in the perfectly laid plans for his life. Rhett is tall, mysterious in just the right way, and standoffish, but caring. Link stands up suddenly with a newfound answer for his problem and coughs roughly at the resounding cloud of hay dust in his wake. 

-

“I’ve got daddy issues!” Link all but squeals as he lobs hay into Merle’s enclosure. The poor horse looks at him with wide eyes and trots to the food, tail swishing merrily in his wake. “Did you hear? Merle, I’m not _attracted_ to him, I’m just dealing with growing up fatherless!”

The horse gives him no feedback, just happy to have company after several days without Mini Wheat. Link figures about the same, standing back and leaning on the fence. Link smooths out his grimey white t-shirt and rubs his palms on his dark jeans, the nicest pair he owns. His hair is too long now, falling into his glasses and flying every which way past his ears. He plans to spend a day in the closest decent sized city and get a haircut, and some good beer. 

Maybe he’d invite Rhett. 

“Not because of any funny business,” Link reminds the animal, “Not because of the _daddy issues_. Just because he might enjoy it!” 

-

“So,” Link starts when he returns to the barn after feeding time. “How was-”

“You n’ me should go to the lake tomorrow for a bit,” Rhett interrupts.

Link hesitates, genuinely wanting to hear Rhett’s response to how the festival went, but distracted by the promise of a cool swim, he lets it go. He hums a contemplative hum, crossing his arms. The last lake outing _did_ leave him in a panicky place.

“What do you say?” Rhett stops and leans against the stall, beard dull with the amount of dust and dirt caught in it. 

“No,” Link shrugs, going against his instincts. “I mean, you saw what happened last time,” Link uses the rest of his breath to hoist some tack from the ground. 

“Come on,” Rhett grabs the remainder of the pile and grunts into it, trailing Link to the tack room. 

“No, okay? I don’t want to. Go have fun with your friends.” 

“They’re all takin’ summer classes, they’re busy.”

Link hesitates at that, realizing that the invitation was just for the two of them. He thinks briefly of Rhett in his light blue swim trunks and his eyes widen the smallest amount. “Fine.”

“Great. I’ll tell dad we’re taking a half day.” 

“Fine,” Link repeats, this time with the slightest smile playing on his lips.

-

They plan to leave before lunch and Link dashes upstairs to change after all of the tasks for the morning are complete. He tugs a t-shirt over his pasty white stomach and slides in the Subaru beside a quiet Rhett.

“Same place as last time?” Link asks as he messes with the tie on his watermelon swim shorts.

“No, we’re actually going to a river offset where there’s a good place to swim,” Rhett says, his voice breaking through the static-y fuzz on the radio.

June ripens in the air like the peach trees on the side of the house, thick with bulbous fruit dragging the limbs toward the dry ground below . Rhett had grabbed a couple of peaches on the walk to the car, handing one to Link now as they pull onto a dirt patch near a bridge. Only one other car is here already, void of any sign of life. Link steps out of the SUV and bites into the peach, juice dribbling down his chin and narrowly missing his t-shirt. 

The summer heat is relentless today, like always, and Link squints into the sun, absentmindedly rotating the soft fruit in his hand. “North Carolina never has sunshine for this many days straight.” 

“I know,” Rhett responds. 

“You know, Tennessee boy?” Link teases as he watches Rhett bite into his peach. 

Rhett glares at him over a mouthful of orangey flesh. He swallows pointedly and says, “Not a Tennessee boy.”

“Where are you from then?” Link asks in a deliberate tone as to feign nonchalance. 

“California,” Rhett answers, already having inhaled the rest of his peach. Link almost misses the answer as his eyes trail the juice collecting in Rhett’s beard. 

“No way. Liar.” 

“Originally, yeah. Born there, raised same as you, North Carolina,” Rhett smiles.

This is new information to Link and it takes him aback, lights the little tendrils of his mind on fire with curiosity. He knows he can’t push it too far, not now, so he says, “Oh, cool.”

-

They bring a couple of beach towels down a small dirt trail to the water.

The trail opens up to a wide stretch of the river where thousands of large rocks litter the sand, the smaller ones near the shore slimy where the water laps their limestone surfaces. Link finds a nice big rock near a shady tree and puts his towel down, toeing out of his sandals as he slides to sit on the rock. 

“Ow, ow, ow!” Link bolts back up, clutching his butt. “Hot motherfucker!” 

Rhett laughs loudly as he finally joins Link, a twelve pack of beer in his hand. He sits on the rock with no problem. “Chill, Weakest. Have a drink.”

“It’s not even noon!” Link grins, taking one anyway. 

“Cheers, brother,” Rhett holds up his beer and in the brown glass Link sees a sparkle of sunlight glistening through the liquid. It seems so beautiful that for a second Link forgets what he’s doing and Rhett cocks his head.

“Cheers,” Link grins, finally connecting the two bottles with a gentle “dink”.

They enjoy the sunshine until Rhett taps his third beer down on the dirt and lets out a low grunt. “It’s hot.”

Link agrees, only two beers deep and already yanking off his t-shirt. He jumps up and walks ten feet to ease into the water, getting up to his knees before he glances back to see if Rhett is following.

Rhett is just staring at him, lazy with alcohol and perhaps a touch of something else behind those eyebrows. Link feels complied to look away as soon as he meets Rhett’s eyes, so he looks down at his own bare torso and embarrassing farmer’s tan.

Despite the discoloration of half his arms, the farm work has toned Link’s body in ways Link has never known until now, the muscles in his back taught and shapely in a way he feels more than sees. 

He gives his hips a small sway and continues into the water, a secret smile on his face.

It’s only a minute later when Rhett joins him, dwarfing him in the water as he steps too close. Link lets himself admire Rhett’s fuzzy chest before flashing a toothy smile. 

“There’s a rope swing over there,” Rhett points to a tree down the shore.

“Nu-uh, I know how Bridge to Terabithia ends,” Link says.

“I don’t think I’ve read that book yet, I’ll take my chances,” Rhett grins and starts making his way over in the water. 

Link watches Rhett climb to the top of a particularly large rock and wraps his hands around the thick rope hanging down. A knot at the bottom provides a ledge for him to stand on as he backs up and then tosses himself off. Rhett is no small man- the rope drops quickly and the tree branch creaks under his weight as he swings out over the water and releases. 

“Nice!” Link hollers, waiting for Rhett to return to the surface after a particularly impressive splash. When he doesn’t, only a few seconds later, Link rushes over as fast as he can in the waist-deep water.

“Rhett!” Link gasps as soon as the blond emerges. 

“_Fuck_, my back,” Rhett grimaces, speaking through his teeth as rivulets of water pour down his face.

They get Rhett back to their rock in the sun and he lies on his stomach and lets out a low groan. “I’m an idiot.” 

“Nah, just trying to show off for the ladies, I get it,” Link plops down on the sand and raises his glass at a girl walking by, trying to play it cool. 

Rhett grunts, “No.”

Link falters at that, giving himself the chance to lie back and stare up at the blue sky. “You ever had someone to impress, Rhett?”

They are alone now and Rhett’s face-down status allows for some bravery on Link’s part. Despite this, Rhett stays quiet for a long time before finally responding.

“Once.”

Link weighs this new information and pops another beer bottle open. “What was her name?”

“Don’t matter.”

“That’s fair. Recent thing?” 

“No.”

Link gives space for Rhett to echo the question back at him in some weird sun-baked form of bonding. He doesn’t get his desired response, but he answers it regardless. 

“I had a girl for a little bit, I guess,” Link shrugs to nobody. “Met in college and she wanted more than I did.”

Silence. 

“She told my best friend that I broke her heart, ‘cept I’m not sure I realized I ever had her heart. I just feel kind of bad at love, I guess.”

Silence.

“It doesn’t matter. Sorry,” Link takes a to-long sip of his beer and grimaces. _Daddy issues_, he reminds himself. 

“What was her name?” Rhett asks, maybe out of pity. Maybe because he’s injured and therefore stuck on this rock. Maybe because he actually cares. 

Link smiles at that notion. “Her name is Christy- we met my freshman year and got really close. She’s tall and blonde, kinda like you, I guess. Super into design, wanted to get her hands on everything and make it beautiful. She was like a sister to me.”

Rhett huffs, “You don’t fall in love with your sister.”

“I don’t think I was ever in love with her,” Link corrects too quickly.

Rhett turns his head and stares at Link for a second before grunting, “Beer.” 

When only four beers linger in the carton, sweating heavily, Rhett pulls himself up with a low noise deep in his throat. “I feel better,” he announces.

“Great, let’s stay away from the swing though,” Link jumps to his feet and pulls up his friend in one stumbling motion.

They get to where they can just bob in the waves from passing speed boats and Rhett really does seem to be feeling better, stretching his long arms behind his head.

“I think I’m stepping on something,” Link frowns in concentration, unable to see past the sand he’s kicked up from the bottom of the lake.

“Ew,” Rhett says. "That's nasty, man." 

“No, come on, hold my hand so I can duck under and find it,” Link laughs.

“Just reach down!”

“No, I’ll lose my spot, you have to hold me still,”

“I’ll hold on to your shoulder!”

“No, I have to lean down, just hold my hand, dude!” Link snaps, his voice coming out harsher than he intended.

Rhett looks scandalized. It takes Link approximately two seconds to recognize the look on Rhett’s face as fear, his pupils blown wide even in the blinding sunlight. 

“Never mind,” Link doesn’t think about how he lost whatever object he was feeling long ago. His hands feel sticky with lake water.

When he looks back up, Rhett's already ten feet away. 


	13. The Fourth, the Fifth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! This chapter briefly describes how someone died in a non-detailed way. If you would like to skip this section, that's fine. This chapter is not crucial to the plot.

The best thing about awkward silence with Rhett is that Link is remarkably used to it at this point. Link watches Rhett’s fingers _tap tap tap_ on his thighs as he drives them home, watches the road swerve and dip and test the car’s suspension as Rhett drives too fast on these back roads. 

“I want to hang out with your friends again, mostly Ellie,” Link stays to the dashboard. 

“Well, we’re going to Memphis next weekend so not sure when you’ll get around to that,” Rhett shrugs, right hand sliding down the steering wheel. 

“Next weekend? Thought your dad said end of the month,” Link huffs.

“He said by then, but might as well go now. Weekend after is Sean’s birthday so he might throw something.”   
  
“You know, today is _my_ birthday,” Link feels a weird crawling pride at his nonchalance. 

Rhett almost kills them with how quickly he turns to stare at Link. “You’re just now telling me?” 

“Yep. Didn’t think it mattered so much,” Link shrugged.

“Well good thing I knew. Why do you think I dragged you to the lake in the middle of the workday anyway?” Rhett returns his gaze to the empty road ahead of them. 

“You didn’t know,” Link huffs. 

“‘Course I knew. Your mom told my mom,” If Link’s not mistaken, Rhett’s a little smug himself.

“I knew that!” Link lies. “I told my mom to tell your mom to tell you.”

Rhett breaks out into a grin and reaches over to punch Link lightly on the shoulder. “Well I did your mom, last night.” 

Link cackles and shakes his head, “You had to go there, didn’t you.” 

“I went there last night!” Rhett grins a wolfish grin. 

“Stop! Oh god, stop,” Link groans, eyes closing, “let’s talk about Memphis.”

“Fine, fine. We’re going to check on the draft horses where they’re being leased on a farm up out in Bartlett. It’s about a six hour drive, so I was thinking we could leave Friday after work, stay somewhere, finish the drive after we check on the horses in the morning,” Rhett says.

“The only road trip I’ve been on as an adult was coming out here to work. And now I’m about to see the whole state!” 

Rhett looks over at him with fascinated eyes, wide and gentle. Link feels stupid, suddenly, under that gaze, a gaze that makes him feel much smaller and more naive than he really is. 

“I’m not a stupid small town boy, you know,” Link says firmly. “I’m smart, I’ve almost graduated college, and I know lots about all kinds of little things.” 

“See I never went to college at all- does that make me a stupid small town boy?” Rhett asks.

“No, you seem plenty smart compared to most of the boys at NC State. A lot of them are there because their daddies said to and no other reason.” 

“Did your daddy say to?” Rhett drawls, pulling into the parking lot of the his house. 

“I don’t _have_ a daddy,” Link corrects, his new favorite phrase dancing in his head. _Daddy issues._

“No? Your mama raised you all alone up there in Buie's Creek?” Rhett cuts the engine and turns to watch Link scramble under his gaze. 

“Might as well have!” Link says, looking anywhere but his eyes. “No daddy, no siblings. When I was ten she married another asshole sociopath jerk-face that she thought I was too critical of, but who called it when he committed insurance fraud and got dragged away by the police? That’s right, me!”

“Jesus,” Rhett blinks into the warm air.

“I mean at that point, my expectations were _very_ low. My whole life it’s felt like my mom and me against the world.” 

Rhett breathes out of his nose and stares straight ahead. Link turns to watch his chest rise and fall, rise and fall. “Felt like that when Cole died too. Like it was my mom and I against the world. Cole was born with a hole in his heart. Startin’ getting bad five years ago, he couldn’t do much of anything ‘cept tell jokes and take hour long showers.” 

Link lets the summer heat seep into the car and says nothing at all, simply nods the slightest amount, encouraging Rhett to continue. 

“We moved out here because it was killin’ him faster for all of his friends to see him get slower, more tired. Dad bought a farm so he could be in the sunlight, be around nature and life. Back home basketball and wrestling were our entire lives- it was better to be away from it all,” Rhett has to stop, puts a hand over his mouth and closes his eyes. 

“Did you see it coming?” Link braves. 

Rhett keeps his form, shakes his head left to right. He removes his hand and takes a shaky breath. “Yes and no. I guess. It was real bad for about a month. He sat on the sofa and sipped Cheerwine for two weeks straight. His blood pressure was weak, his face was so- _so_ pale. It was like living with a freakin’ ghost, man. A ghost who only drank Cheerwine.” 

Link gnaws absentmindedly on his thumbnail as he ignores how hot the inside of this car is getting and waits for Rhett to follow up. 

“Then he, uh. Got better. For about a month he seemed like the old Cole again. We went down to the creek in the pasture and I took pictures of him one day,” Rhett whispers now. Link isn’t sure anyone else has ever heard this part before. “So many pictures. We spent the whole day swimming in the creek, like we were ten again. But he got pneumonia three days later. Went to the hospital and never came back home.” Rhett clenches his jaw so fiercely Link can see the joins protrude from his face. 

“Can I see them?” Link asks softly. 

Rhett turns and blinks wetly at Link, his head tilted.    
  
“The pictures you took. Can I see them?” Link clarifies. 

Rhett seems to debate internally for a minute if his vulnerability meter is exhausted for the day and ultimately decides it is not, agreeing only by opening his car door (fucking finally, Link almost jumps to do the same with beads of sweat migrating down his forehead) and nodding toward the barn. 

“Great,” Link mutters under his breath, “one sweltering hot place to another.” 

Rhett crawls up into the hay loft and Link follows, ending up on a bale beside Rhett who digs up his blue bookbag. 

“You really just keep this thing charged and stowed up here? What for?” Link messes idly with the straw as Rhett digs through the bag.

“My room used to be Cole’s. I used to live in your room now,” Rhett says. “Mom likes to go up into my room these days, says she feels him in the sunlight streaming through the windows in the morning or something.” 

“You think she’d mess with your camera?” 

“Not really. But I think if she knew I had these pictures of him she’d make fifty copies and string them through the house. And a lot of progress would be lost on her end,” Rhett says softly, finally finding whatever chip he wanted and stashing the bag again. “Come on.” 

Back in Rhett’s room the computer whirrs to life and Rhett shoves the chip in it, braces himself inches from Link as the screen floods with thumbnails of his brother. 

-

“What’d you do for your birthday baby?” Link’s mom asks fondly through the phone. “I sure do miss you.”

“We went to the lake, actually,” Link says, avoiding the part where he didn’t bother to tell anyone it was actually his birthday.

“Oh how lovely. Well, I sent a package to you that you should be getting tomorrow or the next day, so keep an eye out for that!” 

“Sure thing, mom,” Link grins into the phone, kicking his legs up as he chats. “How’s Tucker?”

“Oh, hairy as ever. Misses having you come home and play fetch!” She laughs, a beautiful and safe sound. 

“I’m going to Memphis next week, mama,” Link says proudly, feeling like a businessman. 

“Memphis? Isn’t that far? I’ve heard stories.” She worries. 

“No, but there _are_ horses. And Red is going with me, we’ll be just fine. I’ll make sure to send you pictures!” Link promises. 

“And how exactly will you get pictures for me?” 

“Red’s got a really cool camera- I’m sure he’ll take some. If I don’t get a picture with at least one Elvis impersonator-” 

“You’re not allowed to come home!” She finishes, causing both of them to bust into a fit of giggles. 

-

It’s late when Rhett comes to knock on his door again. It’s open, so Rhett opens his door and stands there, shadowy in the light from the hall. “Can I come in?”

“Yep,” Link says as he situates himself on the small bed so that his back is against the headboard.

“Hope your birthday didn’t suck,” Rhett gives a deprecating laugh. 

“Nah, I had a nice time. Even talking about our families like that,” Link gives a sad smile. “You know, everyone’s been through the ringer a time or two. And you live like that, you live with ghosts.” 

“It’s hard to talk about it. I feel like for so long, everything in my life revolved around him. I always put him first- and then he was gone. Just like that.” Rhett leans his back against the wall. “And now it’s been three years and I don’t know what the hell I’m still doing here.” 

Link remembers Jim saying something similar about life being too fast, sometimes you’ve been somewhere so long you don’t know how it happened. He stares at Rhett in the low light and traces the contours of his face with his eyes, dips into the divots of his cheeks and the curves of his nose. He wants to lean over and hold Rhett, or be held, or just start leaning and see what happens next. 

“Well, you can go back to school. Join the wolf pack man, you can study photography,” Link suggests, the words coming out like he's suddenly Rhett's advisor. 

“You think my dad would _let_ me study photography?” Rhett chuckles, “I really wouldn’t mind doing engineering.”

“The world would be losing a gifted photographer, but that’s your call,” Link shakes his head teasingly.

“You think I have a gift?” Rhett blinks, looking impossibly confused and twice as beautiful as he struggles to accept the notion. 

“I do, man. I really do,” Link smiles, puts a hand on Rhett’s thigh and keeps it there.

Rhett doesn’t seem to mind, instead tilts his head back and makes a low noise in the back of his throat. “College. Okay, I guess that’s a logical next step. I have some money saved.” 

“If you want to make some pit stops to check out universities on our trip, I’m game,” Link grins, retracting his hand and fully expecting Rhett’s look of horror. 

“Slow down there, Weakest. I’m going to need some time. Maybe an aptitude test or something.” 

Link keeps smiling and says, “Aptitude? That’s an ACT word already, my man! You are on your way!” 

Rhett rolls his eyes and slides from the bed, to Link’s dismay. “I should get to sleep. We’ve got a big day tomorrow planting flowers.” 

“Ughhh,” Link moans dramatically, flinging himself down where Rhett was just sitting before rolling off the bed.

“I know, I know. It’s gonna suck,” Rhett laughs as Link pulls himself off the floor. 

“Do we at least get to go pick them out from the nursery?” Link asks.

“Oh yeah. We can get any color you want, as long as it’s on my mom’s pre-picked list for the flower beds.” 

“What’s on the list?” Link raises his eyebrows and puts a curious hand to his chin.

“Pink and,” Rhett makes a face of extreme wonder, “Purple.”

Link groans but laughs his way through it, throwing his whole body into an attempted back bend. He stops and straightens out when he feels a hand on his wrist. 

“Listen,” Rhett sobers up, releasing Link’s wrist. “thanks for listening today. I know it’s not a fun subject, and especially on your birthday, it’s a little dark.” 

“Nahh,” Link shrugs, lying.

“Just. Thanks.” Rhett’s eyes flicker to the ground once before he steps forward and awkwardly hugs Link for a second. When he pulls away before Link can even begin to process it, much less hug back, Rhett quickly leaves the room. 

Link promptly heaves himself onto his bed and lets out a low moan, partially for the flowers, and partially for Rhett.


	14. Nashville

Link throws his clothes in the top-load dryer in the basement Thursday evening and leans against the throbbing machine, drawn like a cat to the soothing movement and warmth. He often wonders where he would be if something had changed in his life before he got this far. What if his dad had stuck around, what if he thought that Link was enough of a bright spot in his life to invest his love in him? 

What if Link had had a brother, a younger brother maybe, with an illness? What about Link’s life would be different right now, would he be stuck in his mom’s house wondering where his life is going? 

“Thinkin’ so loud I thought you had fallen asleep on that thing,” Diane walks into the basement with an armful of towels, startling Link upright.

“No ma’am, just daydreaming. We’re leaving for Memphis tomorrow morning so I wanted to make sure my clothes were clean.” 

“Well, you don’t have to supervise them anymore,” Diane winks. “I think Red was looking for you upstairs anyway.” 

Link perks up, thanks mama Di and goes to find the man upstairs. It’s quiet all through the house at this late hour and Link finds himself distracted by it, quietly padding through the house and looking at the odds and ends littering the tables and shelves in the den. 

“Hey Link,” Rhett glances up from his desktop when Link stills in the doorway to his room.

“Hey.” 

“I’ve planned a bit of a surprise for you tomorrow night,” Rhett says mischievously. “Promise you like country music?” 

“Hell yeah, man. I’m a country boy and we’re going to the heart of it!” Link grins. “A surprise why, exactly?”

“Your birthday, or whatever. Felt bad it turned out so damn depressing,” Rhett shrugs. 

“It didn’t, but I’m not about to deny a surprise involving country music. We’re going to feed the animals and then leave around seven?” Link double checks, ever the planner. 

“Mhm, same morning routine and then we’re off. Only four hours to Nash. Bring something nicer than a t-shirt, okay?” 

“Okay, mom,” Link rolls his eyes and heads to the bathroom to shower. He strips off his dirty clothes and looks blankly into the mirror above the sink. He notes with a dull interest the pale, but toned definition in his biceps and pectorals, all the way down to his flatter stomach. 

“Dang, Neal,” He gives himself an appreciative whistle, laughing as he cuts the water on and waits for the gas to make it piping hot. It doesn’t take long before he’s soaked and warm, long hair plastered across his forehead. He scrubs shampoo into his hair and quiffs it out of the way, gearing up the scrubby brush. 

With a quick rinse of his face, he brings his lips an inch from the top of the handle. “_When the sun goes down, on my side of town, that lonesome feelin’ comes to my door, and the whole world turns- bluuuuuuuuue-” _

He rinses the shampoo out and gets a dollop of conditioner to work between his palms. Even without the “microphone”, he continues, jumping into the chorus. 

_ “If you lose your one and only, there’s always room here ‘fer the lonely, watch your broken dreams dance in and out of the beams of the neon moon, oh watch your broken dreams dance in -” _

Someone bangs on the door three times. 

“Quiet down in there, Brooks and Dunn!” Rhett yells, making Link flush.

“Sorry!” Link grins, embarrassed. He works the scrubby brush over his body like a normal person and hums just under his breath, hidden by the sound of the water rushing over him. 

-

Link packs the nicest shirt he brought with him to Tennessee, a black button down with a little pocket. His mom bought it for him for when he had to start interviewing for big boy jobs- not that he’d never owned a nice shirt before. He shoves in his only pair of loafers in and zips up his duffle, a little too excited as he settles into bed and grins up at the ceiling. 

It was one thing to travel with your friends to Asheville and spend the day exploring before you head back home to the dorms- it’s different to travel for _business_. He’s going to stay in a hotel in a big city- for free! He giggles and rolls onto his side, clamping his eyes shut and ignoring the best part of the whole thing.

He was going to be with_ Rhett_. For two straight days in one of the coolest cities- just boys bein’ boys. He grins against his knuckles and tries to be still and eventually fall asleep. It’d been so long since he felt this excited to stay awake, stay focused on being alive.

-

Friday morning finds them on the road by seven, like planned. Rhett drives first, yawning into the back of his hand as they hit the interstate just as the sun begins to creep over the horizon.

“Can we stop and get some coffee at Weigel’s? Pretty please?” Link requests meekly as he presses his cheek against the cool glass of the passenger seat. He had barely slept the night before, making the morning routines seem twice as dreadful under a dull exhaustion headache.

“Nah man, we’ll have to stop to pee. You can go back to sleep if you want,” Rhett shrugs, “I’ll wake you up when we get there.”

Link purses his lips in thought before agreeing and nestling his head between the side of the car and the headrest. His mouth falls open and just like that, he’s out. 

It’s a good three hours before Link feels three fingers prodding his left shoulder. He frowns and tries to escape the touch, but retreats straight into the solid door. He groggily looks out the window and is pleased to see it’s much brighter and more city-like than his last view. 

“Nashville!” He chirps. 

“You know it.” Rhett smiles.

“You went to Pride last weekend, here, right?” Link muses as he watches the Nashville city limits sign flash by them.

“Uh,” Rhett says, clearly caught off guard. “Yeah. How’d you know that?” Rhett’s knuckles go white over the steering wheel. 

“You said you were going to a festival, I got curious on the internet. Was it fun?” Link’s thoughts almost dissolve entirely as the skyscrapers in the distance rapidly approach.

“Yeah. Stevie, uh, had a great time.”

“And you? Did you have a good time?” Link’s being polite, unsure why Rhett is getting so worked up. Maybe something happened that he doesn’t want to talk ab-

“Yeah. Okay, yeah. Does that not make you uncomfortable?” Rhett finally huffs, dragging Link’s eyes away from the view. 

“That you had fun at a festival? No,” Link laughs, “What in the world, man?”

“Not any festival, pride. I had fun at  _ pride _ ,” Rhett’s voice grows soft as he repeats, “I had fun at pride.” It’s as if he’d never said those words aloud. Link likes that, likes making Rhett say things he’s never said to anyone else.

“Okay, you got me, I have no freakin’ clue what pride is. I assumed it had something to do with, I dunno, marching bands,” Link shrugs, the seatbelt riding up on his chest.

Rhett lets out a shaky breath, “Right, of course. It’s not - not marching bands. Hey, welcome to the country music capital of the world, Link.” 

Link takes the bait and turns his attention to the world surrounding them, sun-baked and shiny. “Its so big.”

“Best city in the world. Gonna live here someday,” Rhett says, absolute. 

“I don’t want to leave North Carolina, but if I had to, I guess I’d go to California,” Link says. 

“California? Leave the south? No way,” Rhett looks at the radio as if someone might try to physically take country music from him. 

“It's just that sometimes I feel like if I don’t move out there, I’ll never go,” Link shrugs. "And I really want to go." 

“Weird way to look at it,” Rhett says softly. “But I guess it makes sense.” 

They sit in a comfortable silence as mid-day traffic gridlocks the main road. They pull up to a metered spot and Rhett pops his truck. “Feed the meter, won’t you?"

When Link is done depositing quarters, he looks over to see Rhett in a very serious looking brown cowboy hat. He sputters, nearly doubling over as he grips onto the meter for some grounding. 

“Yeehaw,” Link snickers, causing a few people in the street to look over at him. 

Rhett frowns deeply. “You don’t like it?” 

“Actually,” Link still has to stifle a giggle, but he is more composed this time. “I love it. Really.” 

The corner of Rhett’s mouth turns up. “Thanks, cowboy,” He puts on a deeper accent, pulling a second hat from the trunk. “Come ‘ere.” 

Link steps forward, unprepared when Rhett removes his glasses. “You gotta hold these for a second.” Rhett pushes Link’s hair back until it’s entirely out of his face, and then puts the cowboy hat over his head and straightens it. Unlike Rhett’s deep brown hat, this one is black and velvety. 

“Wow,” Link breathes, sliding his glasses back on. He can see more clearly with the hair out of the way. “Now we’re locals, right?” 

Rhett claps him on the shoulder and says again, “_Y_eehaw, brother.” 

-

They pick a small dive and Rhett orders for them, two sandwiches with Nashville Hot Chicken between the buns. 

“This is a tradition- don’t ever do it if you’re not ready though,” Rhett mumbles over a mouthful of food. 

Link leans farther over the picnic table covered in a white-and-red checkered tablecloth. The table holds a caddy with mayo, mustard, and hot sauce, and for good measure a roll of paper towels occupies a good chunk of real estate on every table. 

“Ready for wh_at_, exactly?” Link licks his lips, preparing to bite into his sandwich. Rhett is mostly done with his.

“The _runs_,” Rhett says dramatically after swallowing. 

“The what now?!” Link almost spits out his bite that he was so thoroughly enjoying. A huge fly floats down to land on his plate. 

“The runs, man! It’ll get ya, spicy and fried,” Rhett smacks his lips and smiles, “It sure is good though.” 

“It’s incredible,” Link agrees, setting down his sandwich to chug some Coke. 

“We’re going to check into the hotel after this, so we can leave the car and go out. I can’t wait, Weakest. You’re about to experience the joie de vivre.” 

“Since we’re friends now, you don’t gotta keep calling me weakest,” Link huffs, not truly bothered by it, but he’d started caring a little what the big man thought of him at some point. 

“You don’t like the nickname?” Rhett says, his voice wounded even as he speaks around the last bite of his meal.

Link feels a twinge of fondness that Rhett does in fact like the stupid nickname, and shrugs. “I guess it ain’t so bad.” 

Rhett smiles and wipes his face, the happy angle of his eyebrows unmasked by a napkin even after he wipes the smile off. 

And dang it if Link doesn’t feel a little proud about that. 


	15. Square One

The hotel is somewhat closer to the main road than Link anticipated. His mom never had money, so the only hotels he had ever known were decrepit little motels on the side of the interstate. Because of this, when he sees the shiny ten story hotel with sparkling lights outside, well, he gets a little giddy. 

Link can't help feeling like an adult when they walk into the hotel with their duffles and ID’s in hand, able to drink and smoke and do whatever they please all by themselves. He likes the feeling of being _grown_, feels it deep down in his muscles and walks with his head high and his weight on the balls of his feet. 

“I have a reservation under McLaughlin for a double room,” Rhett leans on the check-in desk and looks everything like a farm boy as he pulls off his hat and holds it by his hip. 

“I was told it was the same reservation as last year, Mr. McLaughin. A single room,” The lovely receptionist says, checking a long sheet of paper. Their name tag reads: _Mike. _

“It is a single room, with two double beds,” Rhett corrects, leaning over the counter to try and peek at the paper in Mike’s hand.

“No sir, last year it was just one king bed,” The receptionist tilts the paper so Rhett can see it, but the symbols and jargon mean nothing to him and he stops trying to read it. “We repeated that, as asked.”

“My dad musta’ forgotten to say the room needed two beds, forgot it was just him last year,” Rhett shrugs, “Well, can we get a different room?” 

“It’s a Friday night in June, we’re all booked, sir,” Mike holds up a finger and checks another list behind them. “And unfortunately all of our roll-away beds are booked tonight too.” 

Rhett sighs like he isn’t sure how to proceed, until Link steps forward and says, “It’s fine, man. We can sleep head to toe.” 

It’s a joke, all three of them know it’s supposed to be a joke, but nobody laughs. The receptionist hands over two dangly gold keys and the two men step into the elevator moments later.

“Man, fuck Mike,” Rhett groans.

“At least I’m small. I call little spoon,” Link jokes, not feeling the least bit upset about the predicament. 

“Whatever, it’s one night,” Rhett pouts.

-

Link takes the bathroom first, taking a quick shower after traveling all day. He waits until he’s soapy and the water is nice and hot before he takes himself in his hand and ruts his hips forward, imagining spending the night in a bed with someone else. 

It’d be so long since he’d shared a bed with someone, much less someone radiating as much sexual energy as Rhett. Link thinks of secretly humping the mattress next to someone who is asleep, someone who definitely shouldn’t be the subject of dirty thoughts while they’re lying right there- 

“Nnngg,” Link gasps into the water hitting his face, coming on the shower floor before he can even think to aim for the drain. He rolls his eyes at himself and wipes it off with his foot, quickly shampooing before it seems like he’s been in here for too long. 

When he steps out and towels off, he feels a ping of excitement for what the night ahead holds.    
  
Rhett practically shoves past him the second he exits to get into the steamy bathroom, muttering something about needing to piss for twenty minutes now. Link laughs and lets the towel fall from his hips when the bathroom door shuts. He stretches his limbs far over his head and lets the air conditioning dry him a little more-

“Link!” Rhett snaps from behind him, having come out almost immediately to toe his socks off before they got soaked on the bathroom floor. 

“AH!” Link grabs his towel and wraps it around himself again, thankful that Rhett only saw the back end and nothing more. “I thought you were going to the bathroom!” 

“You can’t be naked like that in broad daylight! S’not right,” Rhett mutters before returning to the bathroom.

Link slides on underwear and shakes his head, wondering how someone so rough around the edges can be such a prude. He picks a side of the bed and lies down, in boxers and a white t-shirt. Before he knows it, he’s fast asleep.

-

Something cold and annoying rouses Link some time later and he blinks into consciousness to put a name to it: the ac unit. He glares at it for a second before he closes his eyes and settles back onto the firm mattress again, only to land in a pile of drool. “Yuck,” he says.

“Hmm?” Rhett turns to witness Link waking up. 

They’re in the bed together. Link’s on the left, stretched out but contained, and Rhett’s sitting up on his side thumbing through his camera with his legs stretched out and crossed before him. It’s like a mom and a dad, and Link can pretend for a second that this is at all normal. 

“How long was I ‘sleep?” Link asks.

Rhett shrugs, returns to looking at his camera. “Couple hours. It’s almost seven, I went out and took some pictures on the street.

“We’re going out still, right?” Link sits up and stays cross-legged at the end of the bed, rubs at his eyes. 

“Yep, you better get ready, I want to leave in a bit,” Rhett smiles, and Link notices for the first time that Rhett is already dressed up. He has on nice, tight blue jeans. They’re not the farm ones, they’re still dark blue and cuffed at the ankles. Beyond that, he has long black socks and leather loafers. On top he’s wearing a nice gray henley. It looks like there’s product caked into his hair to make it swoosh a certain way. 

Link imagines that:  Rhett swooshing his hair just so in the hotel mirror while Link snoozed away on the bed. Like a couple, getting ready to go out for date night. He smiles and forces his eyes away, looks down at his boxers instead. 

“Here you go,” Rhett says as he hands over Link’s glasses. “You left them in the bathroom. Cleaned ‘em off for you.” 

-

When Link emerges from the bathroom fully clothed, he can’t lie and say he doesn’t do a little strut in front of the bed where Rhett is still perched.

He’s got his fancy jeans on, his black button down tucked into it neatly with a thick brown belt. He’d even put on the hat again for good measure, liking the way it keeps his hair pushed back against his scalp.

“Dang, Weakest. Don’t you just clean up so pretty,” Rhett grins, his words shoot for facetious but his smile gives him away. 

Link wants to respond, tries to conjure a witty comeback, but he can’t, so he flushes and ducks his head and says, “Well, come on then, let’s do this.” 

Rhett leads him to the place by what must be memory alone, all but taking his hand and dragging him as he flies down the sidewalk. 

“Hey, gigantor, not all of us have five foot legs, slow down!” Link pants, laughing as he struggles to keep up with Rhett. 

“If you lose track of me, just follow my hair. I’m like a beacon!” Rhett hollers back, swerving between people and frustrating Link. After twenty minutes of this, Link’s about to blow a fuse, already gearing up to yell when- “We’re here!” Rhett declares.

“Oh my god…” Link says as he observes the crazy wild-west looking shindig before them. 

“Welcome to the pièce de résistance, man,” Rhett’s absolutely beaming, arms wide around the glowing building. A large wooden sign shaped like cowboy boots proclaims “_Hank’s Honky Tonk_” and Rhett looks proud enough that he could possibly be Hank right now. 

“You’ve taken me to a honky tonk,” Link laughs uncomfortably. 

“Yep, now let’s go in. We can’t miss when they play Rocky Top at nine.” 

“Rocky top?” Link follows Rhett inside, flashing his ID at the bouncer before walking into a place with a wooden dance floor, complete with flakes of hay. 

“They don’t put the hay there! It comes from boots n’ stuff. That’s how you know this is the real deal. Grab a tiny table and I’ll get us beer- what do you like?” Rhett’s delighted enough for the both of them. 

“Whatever’s on draft,” Link shrugs, choosing a small standing table and folding his arms over it to look around and people watch. 

Whoever designed this building designed it to look like a barn, which Link can kind of appreciate. Having spent the summer in a real barn, however, it doesn’t feel authentic. He knows the bar puts the hay on the ground for appearances, and half the people here are clearly hipster yuppies, with their Wallaby’s and Converse and pink sparkly cowboy hats.

“I don’t get it,” Link whines when Rhett returns with two pints. 

“Get what?” Rhett leans on the table as a banjo begins on stage. 

“Why did you want to take me here?” Link cocks his head and watches to see if he can catch the answer in Rhett’s eyes. Hopeful. 

“It’s very stereotypically Nashville. I thought you’d think it was funny.” Rhett takes a long sip of his beer. 

“I don’t, not really.” Link frowns, sipping his beer because it’s the right thing to do right now. 

“Fine. Well, enjoy the music and beer at least,” Rhett seems put off and Link knows he needs to cut out the attitude and enjoy the stupid place, but he can’t. He was annoyed when Rhett started running off and he’s annoyed once again. 

“I thought you were going to take us to a nice restaurant, maybe something on the river,” Link continues before he can help himself, words vomiting out because he’s an only child and he never learned how to shut his damn mouth. 

“Sorry this isn’t good enough, Link,” Rhett rolls his eyes, downs more beer so it’s half way gone. 

“It’s fine, I just,” Link pauses, tries to catch the words in his throat, “This really isn’t me. I liked being an adult for once, an adult in a cool city with you. Someone doing something for me, ‘cause they just wanted to be nice.” 

“Fine, go back to the hotel, I don’t care.” Rhett finishes off his beer worryingly fast, slamming it back on the table and turning to look back at the bar. 

“I might, yeah. I don’t want to be here anymore,” Link feels anxiety throb in his chest and he wishes he could poof home to his mom’s bed. 

“God, such a baby. Do what you want,” Rhett grabs Link’s beer and starts drinking that too, giving room for Link to hesitate and then turn toward the door. 

-

Link sits outside on the street for a long while, watching the cars and people pass without any care for the man sitting on the sidewalk. He watches people leave the club from a safe distance, waits to see Rhett in his stupidly attractive outfit emerge. It's almost twenty minutes before he does, and the man immediately heads in the opposite direction of the hotel, beginning to wind his way through people and parked cars. 

"Where in the world is he going?" Link whispers to himself, jumping to his feet to start chasing Rhett down. He loses him after a few minutes, but manages to keep going in the right direction until he hits what appears to be a secluded bar. He scans the people standing outside waiting to be let in and spots Rhett's hair. Link agrees- it's a beacon. 

“Hey, Rhett!” Link yells, out of breath and sweating on every inch of his nice shirt.    


“Fuck,” Rhett groans, tips his head back and collects his thoughts before must to face the angry man stalking up to him. 

“Rhett! Look at me when I’m talkin’ to you!” Link sneers.

“It’s _Red_,” Rhett scowls, stomping out the hand-rolled cigarette on the dusty sidewalk. “You got something to say to me, kid?” 

Link fumes, his anger boiling over and flowing out of his ears. “You said stopping in Nashville was a surprise, for me! You lied, man!” 

“Wow, Red, didn’t take angry little twinks to be your type,” Another young adult with dark skin and a heavily contrasting rainbow crop-top blows smoke and looks Link up and down. 

“Anthony, stop. He’s not with me,” Rhett’s words cut into Link’s skin like little knives. 

“Red,” Link says with less malice in his voice, “I want you to be honest with me. I know you’ve had to put your brother first always, you had the smaller room, you didn’t get to go to college, you’re traumatized now because you never learned how to put yourself first.” 

“_God_,” Rhett rolls his eyes, “Anthony, I’ve gotta go deal with this, I’ll be right back.” 

“_Not with me_ my ass,” Anthony smirks, “don’t kill ‘em, tiger.” 

Rhett raises his eyebrows in the universal sign for “we’ll see” and takes Link’s arm too firmly, drags him off to the corner beyond the smokers. A lighted sign above them reads Sassy’s, and Link crosses his arms and bathes in the pink glow of it. 

“You didn’t want to stop in Nashville for me. You just wanted to stop here to hang out with your friends and then ditch me to go to a trashy club,” Link sneers, his anger renewed at being manhandled. 

“You don’t want to come here, okay? Your place isn’t with me in this bar, your place is in the hotel room asleep, okay? You can have the damn bed, just leave!” Rhett yells, his breath still reeking of beer in the worst way. 

Link loses his fight, feels his fight or flight response kick at being yelled at. Tears burn around his eyes and his throat tightens weakly as he tries to retaliate. “Just once, just once you couldn’t have invited me?” 

“Okay,” Rhett deadpans, looking annoyed that Link has the audacity to be upset right now. “Link, my dearest coworker, would you like to go to a gay bar with me where literally everyone will assume we’re together?” 

Link blinks, struggling to understand. “Gay bar?”   


Rhett growls, clenching and unclenching his fists, looking like he wishes he hadn’t stubbed that cigarette out when he had. “Link, for the love of god, I’m going to need you to connect some dots here. This is a gay bar. A gay bar I frequent. My best friend is a lesbian. I went to pride last weekend, which apparently you don’t even know what that is. So It’s a festival where gay people can be gay, for a little bit, without fear.” 

Link does,_ all at once_, connect the dots. And for a long moment he just stares ahead at Rhett, trying to churn through the confusion and anger fermenting in his thoughts and come out with something acceptable. The words come, linger behind his lips, and then he swallows them down just as quickly.

“Lucas, okay? You asked me at the lake what my ex girlfriend’s name was. It’s Lucas. Don’t you see the fucking, motherfucking pink sign above us?” Rhett’s pleading now, missing Link's realization entirely as his own voice cracks and dissolves. “So no, _no_ I didn’t plan this stop as a surprise for you. But I tried to make it good, man. I tried. I'm sorry you didn't like the cheesy bar- but can’t you let me have this one thing now?” 

Link blinks up at the pink sign as if reading it for the first time, notices the Y makes a martini glass with three blue olives on a stick. It’s a clever design and it makes Link feel like he’s really in a big city, surrounded by a million things all at once. A million thoughts all at one. Finally, when he drops his chin back to look at Rhett again, he cracks a nervous smile and shrugs. 

“Okay, so I’m a little oblivious sometimes. I don’t care if you’re g-gay, or whatever. You coulda’ told me,” Link says.

Rhett takes a steadying breath and wipes a hand across his face. “I don’t go around_ tellin’_ people, is the thing. My parents have been through enough, they don’t need this on top of it. And I sure as hell don’t need everyone in the bum fuck middle of nowhere tellin’ me that they think I’m a sinner. I don’t need it.”

Link feels irreparably sad at that, for some reason, suddenly acknowledging the fact that he’s been a bit intrusive in a way that has upset his friend. His only friend in the whole state. He swallows back whatever pride he has left and says, “I’m sorry I made you say anything. I’ll go back to the hotel.” 

Rhett doesn’t stop him, just watches Link turn away and start trekking back up the street. Link keeps his head down and his hands in his pockets, passing by dirty bins and locked offices, dry cleaners with bars on the doors, and late night bars with loud laughter mixing with the dense hum of dozens of AC units fighting to keep their patrons cool.

If he looked back now, he would see Rhett standing under the too-bright sign, watching Link go. 


	16. Whiskey

Link returns to the hotel room alone. He lets himself in and is abruptly reminded of the single bed situation. He kicks off his nice shoes without bothering to undo the laces just before he takes off the stupid hat Rhett gave him and sends it flying toward the AC unit. He collapses onto the bed, warm from his walk back. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and stares at it for a long while. 

He wants to talk to somebody about this, but it’s not his information to talk about. He genuinely doesn’t know how his mom would react to knowing that he is sharing a house with a- a man who likes men. Greg wouldn’t be any help, he didn’t understand what Rhett and Link had together. 

Link resists the overwhelming urge to chuck his phone across the room to join the hat and curls into a ball on top of the duvet. It takes five minutes of staring at the wall before he stands. “Fuck it,” He says aloud before he hastily puts his shoes back on. The hotel has a nice bar downstairs- it’s all Link can think about as he heads for the elevators again.

He slides onto a bar stool and leans on his hands, immediately attempting to look older than he is. He wishes he was still wearing the hat, it made him feel a little bit like someone else. After a few minutes the bartender comes over and smiles at him. 

“Howdy,” The man says with absolutely no sarcasm in his voice. “Can I get you somethin”?

“Uh,” Link freezes, looking down at his hands as he tries to think. “Whiskey?” 

“Pretty strong to start,” the bartender says not unkindly, “want to start with lemonade and Tennessee Honey? And we are only able to charge to the room here.”

“That’s fine, room 245.” Link nods appreciatively as an answer for both questions before turning his attention to the other people at the bar once he’s gone. He sees a young girl about his age and thinks about talking to her. Before he can make up his mind, she sees him and slips off her stool, grabbing her drink so she can join him. 

“This seat taken?” She smiles, knowing the answer. 

Link smiles the best he can, at her and then at the bartender as a cold cocktail slides in front of him. “I’m Link.” 

“I’m Sophie,” Sophie says. “Are you all alone?” 

Link hesitates, and then nods again. “Yeah. I mean, my f- friend’s with me but…” 

“Oh. Did you have a fallin’ out or somethin’?” 

“I guess. I left him at the bar, came back here alone,” Link shrugs. 

“Well he’s a big jerk. I’m here with my sister, and she’s already asleep in the room.” Sophie rolls her eyes in what Link assumes is an attempt to make him laugh. 

“He’s- he’s not a jerk. I’m a jerk, well,_ hell_, I don’t know.” Link takes a sip and his lips pucker at the sourness of the lemonade and the pungency of the whiskey. 

“You don’t seem like a jerk to me. Why are y’all in Nashville anyway?” 

Link smirks, taking another sip. “How do you know I’m not a local?” 

“You’re in a hotel, genius,” Sophie laughs, her voice light and unfamiliar in the best way possible. 

“Damn. Maybe I own the hotel,” Link grins, swivels his chair to face her more fully. 

“Oh, so you’re paying for my drink, then?” She teases.

“Well, my money’s pretty tied up right now…”

“In what? Offshore accounts, hot-shot?” Their knees knock together. 

“Hotels,” Link raises his eyebrows as he drinks more.

“Which ones?” She mimics him.

“Oh, all of them. Every hotel in America.” 

“Oh yeah, which America?” She flicks a few strands of long brown hair over her shoulder and finishes her drink along with her statement, thwacking it down to make a point. 

“All of them! North, South, the United States Of- you name it, I’ve got hotels there.” Link laughs too loudly, feeling the need to finish his drink as well. 

She has no comeback, resigns herself to laughing and shifting her chair back and forth. 

“Nah, Sophie. I don’t own anything ‘cept the clothes on my back. Trying to make it through college so I can change that,” Link shrugs, leaning back and making eyes with the bartender to bring him another drink.

“I just graduated from Vanderbilt a month ago,” she says softly. “Hardest four years of my life.” 

“Oh boy, Vandy. I’m just at NC State. Graduating in the spring,” Link nods. “So what’s next for you?”

She looks uncomfortable. “Ugh, I hate that question. I’ve been applying to internships, staying with my sister. I want to go to a big city like Los Angeles.” 

Link smiles genuinely. “I’ve always wanted to move to California.” 

“Really? I’m not sure why I want to go. Maybe because I think if I don’t now-

“You never will?” Link finishes her sentence. 

“Exactly. I studied film production too, I think it would be good for my career to be out there. Here it’s all about music.” 

Link gets his drink and motions to Sophie, getting him to bring her another drink too. “You should.”

“You should too, then. If you want to,” Sophie grins as she takes her drink. “Cheers?” 

Link dinks their glasses together and takes a hefty sip, used to the burn at this point. “I can’t just move across the country.”

“Why not?” 

“My mom- she’s all alone. I have to stay somewhat close, for her.” 

“No you don’t. I mean isn’t that bad, to put your happiness on hold to watch out for your mom? Don’t they want us to live our best lives? Isn’t that what it means to be a good parent?” 

Link stares at the bar mat in front of him, the rubbery surface glistening with sticky wet, his fingers cold on his glass in front of him He can’t remove them, finally feeling the alcohol chugging through his veins. Sophie has been here a while, Link knows he’s more sober than her just from the amount of vodka cran on her breath when she first said hello. 

His mom flashes through his mind along with every single sacrifice she made for her only son. He thinks about how much he loves her and everything he would do for her. Then, suddenly, he thinks of Rhett again. He thinks of how difficult it must be for Rhett to life a half life, ignoring a very large part of the building blocks of himself to make sure that his parents were comfortable. 

He knows Rhett could leave home. He’s a strong young man, knows his way around the world, and has a car. He could leave his parents and move to Nashville just about whenever he wanted to, but he hasn’t. He’s right there, at five am every single day. 

“No,” Link says after who knows how long. “_No_, that’s not what it means to be a good parent. I think bein’ there for the people who raised you, the people who had to go through the worst shit in the world and keep puttin’ food in the table for you in the meantime… that’s what it means to be a good kid.” 

“That kind of thinking is going to make you miserable, Link,” Sophie hums, takes another sip and checks the time on her phone. 

'“I don’t think it has to.” Link messes with the mint spring on his empty glass. “I don’t think it has to.” 

“I guess that’s the whole point of being an adult, though. You get to choose what you do and whoever you hurt, you gotta live with that. Especially if it’s yourself.” 

Link nods slowly, knowing that she is right. The noises of the bar gather around him and he notices another drink has materialized in front of him. This time, it’s the dark whiskey he initially requested, neat, with a small glass of water beside it. He picks it up, laps the sweet contents far too quickly, and before he resurfaces, Sophie is gone. 

-

Getting back to the room is an adventure, Link stumbles down the hallway and digs his key too forcefully into the door before he realizes it’s one over. Eventually the right door swings open and he lets out a low moan at the single bed sitting off center in the room, taunting him. 

“Stupid!” Link spews, almost falling over as he pulls off his shoes. He makes it about as far as the dresser before he starts tugging his pants down, wincing as they drag over his boxers and hit his balls too forcefully. “_Ouch_.”

He vaguely wonders where Rhett is, hopes he’s somewhere safe. It’s barely midnight, Link registers as he looks at the red letters on the alarm clock. “He can have the bed, stupid giant.” 

Link gets his jeans around his ankles before he sits on the arm of the armchair on the other side of the room and falls back sideways onto the cushion with his jeans around his ankles. He shrugs, leans back and enjoys the feeling of being off his feet. The light is blinding, though, so he hunts around for his hat, finding it just within arm’s reach. 

He puts it over his eyes like he does when he takes a nap out with the mini horses and his mouth falls open, falling asleep almost immediately. 

Link is then a ship captain somewhere off the coast of Barcelona, tied by his ankles as pirates attack his vessel. It’s dark out over the water and he feels arms closing in on him, threatening to pick him up and toss him into the churning abyss. 

_“You’ll never take me alive!”_ He gargles as he’s lifted, trying weakly to kick his tethered feet in some semblance of a fight. 

_“Shut up, Weakest_,” the pirate says… softly? Link growls at the patronizing tone, but he’s so tired, so ready for the ocean to swallow him up so he can be done with the whole thing.

_“Why can’t everyone get along!_” Link whines, his voice weak as he’s trusted into a sea of thick, overlapping waves.

-

Link wakes up due to an extreme level of thirst. He opens his eyes and realizes that he is not at home, or in the farm house, he’s somewhere with sheets that smell like beach and something heavy over him. 

He shifts slightly and discovers that it’s an _arm_ over him, a long warm arm with five fingers that are resting on his hip right now. He briefly wonders if he brought Sophie back with him last night- thinking rudely that her arms were significantly harrier than he remembered. It takes another second for him to realize that it's actually Rhett, and he almost flinches away from the contact, forgetting that there is a very valid reason they are in the same bed right now. 

“Rhett,” Link whispers, to see if the man will wake up. Link’s head pounds. He really wants some water. Rhett doesn’t budge, so Link stays limp on his side of the bed. 

He thinks absently that this is actually a very comfortable position to be in. A strong, yet gentle, body tucked close to him, a warm, grounding arm across his torso, ending at his hip. Would it be the worst thing in the world to close his eyes and enjoy it for a minute? He knows today is about to be an awkward day at the very least, might as well suspend the time before. 

It’s at least five minutes later when Rhett shifts for the first time. He sighs heavily into the pillow beside Link’s and rolls into him a little more, his hand riding up to land on Link’s stomach. Link tenses subconsciously, willing himself to relax and play dead. 

Rhett must realize what’s happening around then because he stills intensely and holds his breath- just for a moment. And then, to Link’s surprise, he lets his arm stay there for another minute, almost pulling Link closer. Link wonders if Rhett, too, is prolonging the time before the uncomfortable tension will surely reappear. He wonders if there might be another reason altogether why Rhett doesn't leave immediately.

And then, just like that, Rhett’s retreating slowly, sliding from the bed. 

Link hears the shower cut on a moment later and his eyes snap open. 


	17. Robyn

When Rhett exits the shower, link is on the floor by the mini fridge, downing water in the same boxers and black button down he went to sleep in. 

“Hey, those are five dollars a pop,” Rhett tsk’s at him as he emerges from the steamy bathroom. 

“Well I woke up and someone was in the shower for ten minu-”

“It was _five_ minutes, tops,” Rhett cuts him off. 

“I was really thirsty, man,” Link shrugs, finishing off the bottle. 

“What’d you do last night anyway, you musta been plastered. Also, there was a note on the door for you.” 

“A what now?” Link perks up, eyes darting over to the desk where a piece of hotel stationary sits.

“A note. I didn’t read it, obviously,” Rhett tugs on clothes. 

“Must be from Sophie,” Link gets to his feet and gives it a quick read. “Yeah, it’s from her. She wanted to meet up again tonight, but we’ll be gone. Oh well.” 

“Sophie?” Rhett says softly, his voice an octave lower. “Who is she?”

“I’m not asking you about the boys you met last night!” Link laughs, and then freezes, wondering if that was a step too far.

To his relief, Rhett laughs. “Yeah, good point. Not that I met anyone last night.” 

“What about the guy who was waiting with you. Anthony?” Link crumples up the note and tosses it into the bin. 

“He, uh,” Rhett stops. “This really isn’t weird for you?”

Link shakes his head, “No. I mean, I know what people think about it. But we’re friends and I don’t think there’s anything wrong about it at all.” 

Rhett looks like he could combust. “Oh- okay. Well Anthony and I used to have a thing, but he actually lives here, so he’s seeing our other friend Christian. But I’m not looking for something right now anyway.” 

Link pictures Rhett kissing the boy from last night and a surge of something like irritation makes his mouth twitch. “Fair’s fair, then. I went to the hotel bar and Sophie was already there. We just talked for a while.” 

“Was she pretty?”

Link doesn’t remember exactly what she looked like, but he supposes she must have been alright. “I guess.” 

“You guess?” Rhett chuckles. “Fair enough.” 

Link isn’t sure forgetting what she looked like while she remembered what room number he told the bartender was exactly fair. He goes to shower so they can check out of the hotel on time. 

-

They hit Bartlett early in the afternoon, the sun shining and the air ripe with the honeysuckles of mid June. Rhett finds the farm with no issues, turning down the country music station as they pull up onto the paved lot. The asphalt is a deep black, freshly paved, and so smooth that Link cringes. 

“Wealthy people” Rhett murmurs. 

Rhett turns the engine off and smooths down his shirt, stepping from the car and grabbing his hat from the back. Link refrains from taking his own hat. 

“Do you like these horses?” Link asks as they walk to the front door of the huge brick and stone house. 

Rhett says, “I don’t know them well. They’ve been leased out here since before we bought the farm. The old owners told us that we could come get them, but they’re meant for work. My dad got us two mini horses instead.” 

The door opens before they reach it, a middle-aged person standing there to greet them. They’re wearing worn jeans and boots, a button down and a brown vest over it. Link holds out a hand but stutters on how to address them. 

“Hi boys,” She smiles, “I’m Julianne, or Jules. Glad you two made it safely.” 

“Afternoon, ma’am,” Rhett shakes her hand, “is Robyn around?”

“Sure is. Just out back with the animals. I’ll make some sweet tea and you two can go ahead around back if you’d like.” 

“Sure thing, thanks,” Rhett motions with his head for Link to follow him around back. 

“Who is Robyn?” Link has to work to keep up with Rhett through the tall grass. “Her husband?”

“Her wife, actually,” Rhett spots her out by the barn and waves. 

“Oh?” Link thinks something must be in the water in this state. 

“I went out here with Cole a few years back, they’re real nice women. I have no doubt the horses are good.” 

They walk into the giant stable and Link goes ballistic with how many horses are in there. 

“Watch out, Robyn, he’s an animal lover,” Rhett laughs, pulling her in for a hug. She waves Link on, letting him walk through the stable and read out the horses names.

“Oh, Red, it’s been too long. How dare you let your father come up alone last year!” She swats him with a brush. 

“Had a rough patch last summer, I’m sorry. Glad I made the trip this time. How are the boys doing?” 

Robyn grins. “They’re great. We’ve got three draft horses now. Three lovely young men working for us too, they’re all doing well.” 

“Three? Leasing from someone else?” Rhett hums.

“We own him. And well, after you look at your babies I’d like to talk about something with you.” 

“Sure thing. I’m going to go, uh, catch my friend.” 

“Rhett,” Robyn catches his arm before he can follow Link too far. “You’re okay, now? Had me worried last year.” 

“I’m okay. It’s hard without him, but we get help in the summer. Been fixin’ up the place a lot this year,” Rhett smiles sadly. 

“Well, glad you seem to be doing well,” She rubs his arm and then follows him back to Link.

-

The horses are fine. Big, and black, and fine. 

“Goodness gracious they’re _big_,” Link looks slightly frightened. 

“Yes, for sure. You should see how fast they plow the fields, it’s remarkable.” 

“Can we ride them?” Link’s eyes widen.

“No,” Rhett steps in.

“He’s right. But we do have a pair of horses you two are welcome to ride in the stable. Nino and Cricket.” 

Link’s mouth falls open and he’s glad he’s wearing his boots. “Seriously?”

Watching Robyn tack up Nino is incredible. Link would be lying if he said part of the reason he took an internship at a farm wasn’t because he thought he might be able to ride a horse for the first time in his life. 

It’s about half an twenty minutes later when Link watches Rhett hoist himself onto Nino like a pro. Rhett sits back in the saddle and his blonde hair catches in the sunlight. Rhett smiles and squeezes his legs, asks Nino to take him forward in the ring. The horse pleasantly agrees, beginning to walk away. Link watches the dust begin kicked up and then turns his gaze to the muscles in Rhett’s back, working hard to keep him stable under a tight henley. 

“What if I fall off?” Link worries, watching Rhett act like a pro. 

Robyn thunks a helmet onto him. “Here you go. I’d ask Red, but you can’t make that boy do anything.” 

Link agrees, buckling the helmet under his chin and waiting for Rhett to tire himself out. 

“Alright, I’ll save mine and Nino’s backs, let Link have a turn,” Rhett pets Nino’s light brown fur before he dismounts. “You ready Weakest?”

“Weakest? What kind of pet name is that!” Robyn laughs, “Be nicer to your friend.” 

“It’s- it’s not an insult,” Rhett explains roughly, ducking his head.

Link smiles and says, “I know.” 

-

Being on a horse is terrifying. Link did not expect this. He gets up via the help of a mounting block and then sits on top of Nino with terrified blue eyes. Nino shifts and Link instinctively clamps down with his thighs, igniting the horse to start moving forward. 

In his panic, Link grips the reigns too hard and causes Nino to lurch and turn, frustrated with the human on top of him. 

“Link, loosen up! Don’t yank- just let the reins be loose and gently use your thighs to get him going!” Robyn yells. 

Link feels like Nino is going much too fast, feels out of control. Even the saddle feels too loose- like it’s about to slip off the saddle pad and drag him with it. “I want _off_!” Link hollers, his hands trembling. 

“Okay, give me a second,” Robyn says calmly, “You have to get him to stop, okay? Just pull back gently, say “woah there!” 

Link can’t move, just lets Nino keep walking forward, unable to force himself to pull back. He feels himself about to cry, feels like everyone is watching him be a giant idiot over here. “Woah,” He says softly, his voice cracking. The horse doesn’t hear him. 

“Link, pull back the reins,” Rhett’s voice chimes in, louder and more commanding than Robyn’s. 

Link isolates Rhett's voice, used to following his commands, and makes himself pull back gently, easing Nino into a painless stop. Robyn rushes over with the block and gets Link off the horse. “It’s okay baby, just go back to the stable. It was your first time, you did well.” 

Link walks over to the stable, trying to hide his red eyes, and puts his helmet down before booking it back to the house, ignoring Rhett’s confused shout behind him. He runs until he’s panting hard, his chest throbbing. He walks into the house and Jules appears, lowering her reading glasses. 

“Is everything okay?” She asks upon seeing Link leaning heavily against the wall. 

“Y-yeah. I’m just a wimp,” Link pants, “Do you have a bathroom?” 

She directs him to the other hallway and once he’s inside of the World’s Fanciest Bathroom he lets all of his weight collapse onto the wall and he slides down, burying his face in his hands. 

He feels like he might puke or faint, but settles for sobbing dryly into his hands. It’s more than fear, it’s embarrassment and helplessness piled on top of being scared out of his mind. He’s made a fool of himself in front of people who know his employer- he’s made Rhett look like an idiot for working with someone who sucks this much at the basics of farm life. 

He starts crying and leans into the wall, covering his mouth to keep quiet. His whole body shakes with it, his hands moving to wipe the tears on his jeans every minute. He thinks he probably couldn’t stand if he tried. He sobs harder when he hears a knock at the door. 

“Link?” And oh boy he knows that voice. Lately, it’s been the only voice on his mind.

“Occupied,” He manages to say weakly. 

“Open the door, it’s just me,” Rhett insists, and Link thinks he probably should let him in, considering he never locked the door in the first place. Rhett figures that out and steps into the decently sized bathroom. 

“I’m sorry,” Link sobs, curling into himself until Rhett closes the door. Rhett sits on the bathroom floor.

“Do you mind being touched?” Rhett asks kindly. Link shakes his head slowly and Rhett scoots to the same wall, leaning back into the corner and pulling Link into his arms. 

“I’m sorry,” Link leans into his chest and grips his fingers against Rhett’s waist. His mind flashes to the way Rhett’s hand was on his hip this morning. Rhett smells like himself, like his bed back home. He smells like the barn outside and the 'black forest' air freshener in his car that hides the smell of cigarettes from his parents. 

“Don’t be, don’t be. You didn’t do anything wrong,” Rhett says, rubbing patient circles into Link’s back. 

Link focuses on everything tangible and before long his sobs subside. He reluctantly sits back up and wipes a hand across his face. 

“You okay? I know for a fact that Jules made sweet tea, if you want me to bring you some I will,” Rhett uses his thumb to wipe under Link’s already-dry right eye. He stares at Link for a beat too long, his hand lingers on Link's face for a second more than necessary. Link feels dizzy all over again. 

“I think I’ll join you. I don’t wait to freak them out,” Link forces out a weak laugh.

“Nobody’s freaked out by you, man. Relax,” Rhett stands and helps Link to his feet, their hands connected until they’re both out of the bathroom. 

-

They drink good sweet tea on the porch and Jules sits close to her wife and Link can’t stop watching them interact with each other. He isn’t used to couples in their mid 40’s being this affectionate. He doesn’t think he’s_ ever_ seen his mom this content to just exist with a significant other. He’s well aware of how he and Rhett are also sitting on the same side of the table, chairs pushed close.

“I told you when you got here that there was something I wanted to discuss with you,” Robyn says once the chit chat has died down. “Well, two somethings.”

“Go ‘head,” Rhett takes a long swig of tea. 

“Your dad called us a few weeks back and mentioned that he was thinking of selling the farm.” 

Rhett visibly blanches. “What?” 

“If this is new information, I’m sorry that I’m the one to break it. But we want to buy the horses off of you. For a pretty penny.” Robyn continues, all business.

“I’ll have to talk to my dad,” Rhett grimaces. 

“We were thinking we could sign the papers while you’re here- but we knew you were going to make the drive back tonight.”

“We were,” Link says when Rhett says nothing, lost in thought as he stares at the table. 

“But we’d happily have you two stay the night if you wanted to negotiate this evening and then leave in the morning,” Jules pipes in. 

“Yeah, can I take a walk?” Rhett stands up too quickly, squeals the chair across the deck as he does so. “I need to call my dad. Alone.” He adds when Link starts to stand with him. 

Link sits back down, looks over at the women as Rhett exits the deck. 

“He’s a wild card,” Link sits back, repeating nonsense words he’d heard from someone else's' description of the tall man. He doesn’t trust his own words right now. 

“Maybe so. But he’s sweet on you,” Robyn smiles, ever calm, and takes another sip.

Link nods slowly, taking that to mean whatever makes him happiest right now. He closes his eyes, feels the ghost of Rhett’s thumb moving across his cheek. 


	18. Heatwave

“What’s the second thing?” Link asks absently after Rhett’s been gone over ten minutes. 

Birds chirp in the trees near the covered porch. Link watches the world exist around them, relaxes into it and exhales deeply.

“The second thing?” Robyn looks up from her notepad and tilts her head just so.

“You said you had two things to ask us, or him. You don’t have to tell me, I was jus’ curious,” Link says. In all honesty, sitting on this porch in silence with sweet tea is the most fun Link has had in a long time, he doesn’t need any answers right now.

“We were going to offer Red a job out here, for next year. And it wouldn’t just be for summer, it’d be a full time thing,” Robyn crosses her arms and looks at Link expectantly. 

Link’s insides twist and he doesn’t respond immediately, changes his mind about the answers thing. Memphis is a long way from North Carolina. “Oh.” 

“If Jim is going to sell the farm, I imagine he needs somewhere to go,” Jules says softly when she sees the look on Link’s face. “We’d love to help a good kid like him out.”

“He’s- he’s gonna go to college, he can’t,” Link picks at his nails, “He’s going to NC State in the fall- but , uh, don’t mention it. Makes him really nervous,” Link compulsively lies through his teeth, overwhelmed with the urge to do whatever it takes to keep Robyn from telling Rhett about this job. 

“Oh, how lovely!” Robyn grins, “I had no idea he wanted to go to college.” 

“Sure does. Going to my school, NC State,” Link nods with tight lips. 

“Well, good for him. Maybe during the summers he can come up and work for us, that’s what you’re doing right now, huh?” 

“Yes ma’am, going back home August first.” Link is relieved just to tell a solid truth. 

“Seems like you two are enjoying each other’s company well enough,” Jules pitches in, earning an apprehensive look from Robyn. 

“We know Red can be a bit hard headed at times, is all,” Robyn explains. “We’re glad he likes you.” 

“Sure does,” Memories of the last month flash through his head of every time they’ve fought, every time Rhett has given him a nasty look before leaving him alone. They hurt more out of context like this, painful and ripe. He can hardly bear the mistruths he’s spewing anymore, can’t look the lovely women in the eyes. He sighs audibly when Rhett re-appears. 

“Dad wants to think about for a while. Can we stay the night?” Rhett asks bluntly, his eyes cold before they land on Link and register the discomfort behind his eyes. 

“Sure thing dear,” Robyn says, “I hope you’re up for cornbread and baked spaghetti for dinner.” 

“Sounds great, Ma’am,” Rhett sits back down in the chair and turns his gaze to Link.

“I can’t wait,” Link agrees.

-

“So you can stay in this room, Red, and Link you are welcome to the room down the hall. I changed the sheets so they’re fresh for you. Why don’t you take some time to rest and then I’ll come get you boys for dinner?” Jules shows them their rooms.

They thank her and Link walks into his room, a light pink room with airy white curtains and a white metal queen bed in the middle of the room. It is beautiful and cold, unsettling in the way the surfaces are free from clutter. He lies down and closes his eyes, listens to the clatter of pots and pans from the floor below. 

Dinner is fine. Not nearly as good as Mama Di’s- but it’s still made with love and makes Link feel full and content. He stifles a laugh when he looks over and sees Rhett shoving food in his mouth. He’s eaten half the spaghetti by himself shamelessly, his plate stained red with sauce, his beard littered with specks of cheese.

“Red, _good lord,_ slow down,” Link laughs, handing him a napkin. 

Rhett laughs, taking it softly and wiping it through the wild hairs on his beard. “Thanks.” 

“You’re lucky to have him around, keepin’ you civilized out there,” Robyn chuckles, swirling spaghetti around her fork.

Rhett smiles down at his plate, slowing down with a conscious effort. 

-

After dinner Rhett fixes them two more rounds of diet coke and whiskey and Link grips the sweating glass before they go outside to take a lap around the yard. It’s hard not to feel alive like this, outside in the evening when the hundreds of fireflies start to flicker in the night. 

Rhett takes small sips and keeps his eyes locked on the horizon, maybe watching the cows in the distance. Link loves the cold sweetness flooding through his mouth, followed by warmth navigating down his chest. 

“We headin’ back in the morning?” Link asks.

“Depends what dad says ‘bout the horses,” Rhett answers after a short delay. 

They keep walking.

“What do you think he’ll say?” 

“Oh, I _know_ what he’ll say,” Rhett frowns. “He didn’t want to tell me he was selling the house, but he is.” 

“You didn’t see it coming at all?” Link finishes his second glass much faster than Rhett. 

“No. That’s- that’s where Cole died. I never thought my mom would want to leave,” Rhett huffs, finally stops walking.

“You should apply to college, Rhett,” Link says firmly. "I think this is your change to really choose your path." 

Rhett turns back and gives him a look, not quite nasty. “Your path isn’t the only right path, Link.” 

“Would it kill you to keep moving forward?” Link mumbles. “You’re so addicted to being stagnant, festering in whatever hellish emotions you refuse to acknowledge. I’m going back to the house.” He turns, sick of the way he always ends up with pits in his stomach after talking to the guy. He cares so damn much about this idiot who doesn’t want to hear a word he has to say.

“Link, why do we have to keep doing this?” Rhett says too loudly, his voice echoing off the rolling plains. 

Link turns around and focuses his eyes through the darkness. “I don’t know. I care about you, man. I wish I could be apathetic, I do! Something about you makes me crazy, man. I’ve never cared what another living soul thinks about me this much!” 

“You care what I think?” Rhett raises an eyebrow. 

“And I want you to listen to me! This isn’t i_t_ for you, okay? This isn’t the end. You’ve been through shit, but college is different. You can go to NC State with me, and live with me n’ Greg, and be a stupid kid again.”

“Link,” Rhett looks away, blinks up at the emerging stars before swallowing hard. “What if I’m not smart enough?”

“Did you graduate high school?” Link’s voice goes soft.

“Yeah, with a good enough GPA,” Rhett sniffs.

“Then you’re fine. They teach you once you get in, you know,” Link steps forward, starts to reach up to wipe the tears out from Rhett’s eyes but stops himself. 

“It was kind of a relief, you know. To stop everything and move out to a farm. I got to see my brother relax a little. I got to be a kid with him in the west pasture, the only one where things grew.”

“There’s that stream out there-” Link remembers, 

“That was our place. We’d go out there, hang out in the garden. So much life in that small area, I thought it would keep him safe forever,” Rhett sobs, dropping to the ground, his glass falling from his hands and bouncing into the grass. “The rest of that farm is on stupid Tennessee clay- can’t grow anything but grass for the _fucking_ animals!” 

Link sits down beside him, setting his cup down nicely. 

“He called me Red. Called me_ Red_ because I was stubborn like that clay, ‘cause I refused to let him do what he wanted,” Rhett sobs, his mouth falling open in a silent scream, his eyes screwed shut. 

“Rhett,” Link stresses, “you’re _Rhett_. You’ve got a whole life ahead of you, you’re going to make him so proud.” 

Rhett opens his eyes long enough to keep his watery gaze on Link. “You think so?” 

“Gosh, I know so,” Link reaches out and grips onto Rhett’s wrists. “And I don't want to leave you at the end of summer.” He embraces the tension this time, lets Rhett’s warmth mix with the humid night air. He smells the alcohol on both of their breath and wants to cry with how badly he wants to keep leaning in. 

He wants it so badly he thinks he must be imagining it when Rhett inches closer, his face red and beautiful in the low light. 

“Rhett,” Link whispers as he watches Rhett lean closer in slow motion. He feels himself retreat before he actively chooses to, settling back onto his hands before turning away entirely, panic coursing through him as he leaves the glass and starts walking back to the house before he can stop himself. He hates himself intensely at this moment, hates the way he’s running away for the second time today like he's not in control of what he does anymore.

He walks in through the front door and slams his back against it the second it clicks shut, breathing heavily as he feels his heart pound in his chest. 

Rhett was trying to kiss him. 

_Rhett was trying to kiss him._

Holy shit. 

_ Holy shit!!!!!! _

Link cups his hands over his face like a paper bag and closes his eyes. He almost turns around, runs back to Rhett, grabs him by the shirt and does what he’s genuinely wanted to do since the second week he knew the kid. He almost does, but he does not.

He makes himself walk upstairs into his bedroom and lock the door behind himself. He can’t still his rapidly beating heart, stripping off his clothes like he has to wash the grass stains off his ankles to be whole again. 

He’s a jerk. He knows know. This is brand new to him, every damn ounce of it, and he's a huge jerk.

He steps into the ensuite bathroom and turns on the shower, steps under it immediately and gasps at the distracting relief the icy water before it quickly warms up from the pipes outside under the blazing sun all day. He leans his lips against the warm porcelain and kisses the wall, imagines it’s a beardless Rhett, imagines he didn't just fuck up the very thing he wants most right now.

“Fuck,” He whimpers against it, the water blistering hot now over his shoulder blades. He’s ruined everything. Absolutely everything. He scrubs over his skin with a flower-shaped bar of soap and grinds his teeth together, feeling like a coward and a jerk all at once.

When he’s scrubbed every inch of himself, he steps out of the shower and brushes his teeth furiously to get the taste of the whiskey out, tries to erase what happened as his heart aches beneath his dripping hair. He doesn’t know how he gets back to the pink bed, doesn’t remember crawling under the thick quit or plugging his phone into the wall. 

He lies there numbly, staring at the white curtains shift in the breeze from the ceiling fan. He lies there until he starts thinking. He thinks about every moment he's denied that he was falling for another boy. He didn't have the vocabulary, the bravery, the will to admit it. He think about Christy, and Greg, and finally he thinks about what Sophie told him the other night.  _ “You have to live with who you hurt, especially if it’s yourself.”  _

He swallows, his pulse increasing. He’s an adult. Fuck the fancy hotel, fuck getting a job out of state, fuck his stupid engineering degree. _This_ is the first time he’s felt like a grown man, being afraid to do something and making the decision to do it anyway. 

He slides from his bed and marches down the hall in boxers and a t-shirt, his hair damp and his glasses smudged from where he haphazardly grabbed them from the bathroom counter. He goes to Rhett’s door and knocks twice, waits for a response. 

When he hears nothing, he lets himself in, only to find the room dark and empty. He frowns, walking to the middle of the room where the moonlight envelops the warm hardwood beneath his pale feet. 

“Link?” Rhett says suddenly from behind him in the doorway. He clearly just returned from the bathroom down the hall, his hair damp against his forehead. 

“Rhett,” Link spins around.

“Did you need something?” Rhett asks softly, looking small in pajama pants and a white tank top. 

Link swallows and nods, stepping forward as a rush of adrenaline makes his hands tremble. He doesn’t know exactly what to do now, feeling it out as he stops inches away from the taller man. 

Rhett looks down at him, apprehensive. Link looks up at him, overwhelmed. 

“Hi,” Link laughs breathily. “Sorry about that. I just needed a minute.”

He fists his fingers into Rhett’s shirt and drags him down as he goes up on his tip-toes, pressing their lips together. Rhett reacts almost immediately, pouring himself into the kiss and raking his fingers down Link’s back, landing with his palms beneath Link’s thighs and hoisting him into his arms, graciously bringing their heads and mouths closer together. 

Link takes in every inch of Rhett’s beard brushing across his own smooth face, his warm lips inviting as Link licks into Rhett’s mouth. It’s like nothing else in the world, Rhett is so warm and _strong_, carrying him like he weighs nothing. Both of them smell like the same lavender soap and peppermint Crest and Link wants to die in these arms. 

“Gosh,” Rhett murmurs against Link, striding across the room to toss Link back onto the bed. Link smiles, his eyes glossy, reaches out his arms to pull Rhett back in. Rhett accepts the invitation, props himself up on his hands over Link and kisses his forehead, pulling off his glasses. 

“You should go back to your room,” Rhett says then, his voice pitched low. 

Link blinks. “Why’s that?”

“Because we have a big day tomorrow, and you’ve had two glasses of whiskey.” 

Link rolls his eyes, leans up to kiss Rhett again. Rhett flinches back, moving off Link. “I’m serious, Link. If we’re doing this, I need to lay out some ground rules.” 

“Wow, you really are no fun, ya stick in the mud,” Link giggles, high off whiskey and endorphins and whatever else he just took from Rhett.

“Bingo. Get outta here, Weakest,” Rhett’s voice is fond, perhaps the fondest voice Link has ever heard. 

Link rolls his eyes and slides off the bed, reaching around for his glasses. He doesn’t notice Rhett rubbing them off on his tank top. Rhett stands up and slides the plastic frames gently onto Link’s face. 

“Here you go. Cleaned ‘em off for you.” He steps to Link and holds him by the chin, kisses him slowly and passionately one last time. 


	19. Forward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heck of a response on the last chapter!! Thanks for the comments and kudos, I'm having so much fun with this story and it's making my days brighter to see people enjoying it. 
> 
> Find me on tumblr under cerealbaths if you want!

Link blinks into the warm light of morning and remembers three things all at once: 

  1. He is in Memphis in a stranger’s _very_ pink guest bedroom. 
  2. Jim is selling their family's farm and yesterday he watched Rhett cry about it. 
  3. And speaking of Rhett, holy shit, they made out last night.

Link bolts up in bed, unable to help the sleepy grin spreading across he face as he remembers exactly how Rhett held him yesterday as they kissed- the way Rhett threw him onto the bed. What is more startling than the memory of the intense moment, is that he’s probably allowed to go do it again _right now_. His heart flips over and he sinks back into the sheets, covering his face with his hands. 

He crawls from the bed, hastily pulling the sheets back into a pseudo-made way. He’s thankful for the en-suite as he brushes the sleep out of his mouth and splashes his face with water. He brushes his long black hair back behind his ears and returns his glasses to his face, still clean from where Rhett rubbed them on his tank top last night. 

“Ahh,” Link breathes to himself, wishing he had clean clothes left. Unfortunately, this day of the trip was unplanned, and he’d messed up the black button down by sleeping it in drunk. “You’re fine, Link, you’re fine.” It's stupid anyway to want to impress the guy who saw him drunk with his pants around his ankles two nights before, he thinks. 

He puts on the nice dark jeans again, still mostly presentable, and wears the green Atari t-shirt from the first leg of the drive to Memphis It’s clean enough, as it was replaced by the button down before too many shenanigans happened. With his sneakers laced up, he opens his bedroom door and stares out into the hallway, scared.

“Agh,” He murmurs, retreating back into his room to pace around a few times. He wants to kiss Rhett again, _damn it_, make those feet walk to his door! With a renewed breath, he forces himself in the hallway and timidly walks down the hall- only to find Rhett’s door open and the bed made already. 

“Damn it,” Link huffs. He continues downstairs, the house large and unfamiliar as he makes his way to the kitchen. The first person he sees is Jules, working on her laptop at the kitchen table. 

“Morning Link! How did you sleep?” She smiles.

Link really wants to scream that he got his first real kiss last night, from someone he’s really into, and it feels like he’s about to explode with joy at any second. He can’t remember a single thing about the quality of sleep he got. “Great, thanks!” 

“You seem happy today! Robyn and Red went to the farmer’s market, I bet they’ll be back before too long.”

And just like that, Link feels like he did that first weekend when Diane told him that Rhett had gone to the lake without him. Back then he thought Rhett was a needless jerk, and it still hurt. But this time, he thought he would be Rhett’s first choice. The hurt’s a little worse now as he imagines Rhett frolicking through a farmer’s market without him, maybe not even thinking about the kiss at all. 

“Are you okay, dear?” Jules stands up from the table and puts a motherly hand on his shoulder. 

“I don’t know…” Link sinks down into one of the other chairs. “Guess Red didn’t want me to go with them.” 

“You were asleep, baby, and he and Robyn have something special. They needed some catch up time,” Jules says. 

It doesn’t comfort Link. “_We_ have something special too!” he blurts out without meaning to. 

There’s a pregnant pause between the two of them. 

“I mean,” Link stutters, “can I tell you something but you have to promise not to tell anyone else?” 

“My lips are sealed,” Jules chuckles, taking a sip of whatever hot drink she has by her laptop. 

“Rhett- Red kissed me last night. Or I kissed him- we kissed, is the point. And it was the best, and I never thought I could be gay, or whatever, but I must be because I can’t stop thinking about it. Or him.” Link feels out of breath as he watches Jules take that in. 

“I thought there might be something there. I’m sorry he didn’t invite you this morning, butternut. He’s probably just processing it. He’s closed-”

“He’s closed off. I know, but I’ve watched him open up and I’m so scared he regrets it.” Link frowns at the table. The thought of Rhett taking back the kiss makes him sick to his stomach.

“It’ll be okay Link. I don’t think he would hurt you like that,” Jules says, and this time her words do make him feel a little better.

-

Link has one foot on the stairs an hour later when he hears Robyn’s truck pull into the driveway (almost misses it, dang that smooth asphalt).

“Link!” Jules calls out like he hasn’t been anxiously waiting for this since he woke up, “They’re back!” 

Link sees Rhett from the window on the side of the house, and goodness he looks handsome. Rhett clearly overpacked for this trip because he’s now wearing a light blue t-shirt with a little pocket on the right side that Link hasn't seen. It's nicer than his usual farm clothes and his hair is wind blown, his mouth open in a laugh as he responds to whatever Robyn is saying. 

Link stands there watching him until he realizes how weird it will look when they get back inside and Link is hiding in the corner peeking out the window. He rushes over to the kitchen table and acts like he’s been there the whole time. 

“Hey Link! Sorry we missed you this morning, left at seven thirty,” Robyn hollers as she deposits an armful of plastic bags on the kitchen counter.

Rhett follows with a bag of potatoes and a gallon of milk. He makes eye contact with Link for half a second before he continues into the kitchen. 

“How was the market?” Link asks as casually as he can. 

“Great, we’ve had a lot of rain lately so my zucchinis were huge.” 

“You have a stand at the market?” Link saw the garden out back yesterday, but it had just looked like a mass of green vines to him.

“No, I bring them to trade. We got most of this for zuc’ bucks!” Robyn laughs, her long hair pulled back with a scrunchie. Rhett silently puts things away around her. 

“That’s awesome. I'm guessing you made the zucchini muffins on the counter?” Link grins, “‘Cause I ate about four of them for breakfast.” 

“Sure did. I can’t believe a farm boy like you managed to sleep past nine,” Robyn teases, settling into a kitchen chair with a heavy sigh. "I'm worn out." 

“Well, you know, had trouble falling asleep,” Link looks into the kitchen as he says this and isn’t surprised to find Rhett staring at him, potatoes frozen in hand. 

“Oh, I’m sorry! Well you’ll be back in your bed tonight. The McLaughlins have decided to sell us their horses. Red and I are going to sit down and go over some paperwork, then you can be on your way,” Robyn says softly. “It’s sure been nice having you two around.” 

“It’s been nice being here,” Link smiles. “If I’m ever out this way I’ll come visit, okay?” 

Robyn smiles, puts her hand over his and nods. “You’re always welcome. But now it’s time for a shower.” 

Link thanks just about every star in the sky when she gets up and heads to the master bedroom, leaving him and Rhett alone. 

They don’t talk for a minute, not until Link can’t stand it anymore and clears his throat. “So.”

Rhett looks over, gaze calculated. 

Link is speechless, desperate to read Rhett’s mind and figure out if he’s allowed to get up and go hug him, just to release all of the pent up emotions living in his chest. He worries his lower lip, standing up from the table. 

“Your dad decided to sell them?” Link says, the words coming out just as stupidly as he predicted they would.

“Yep,” Rhett says. 

“I, uh, like your shirt,” Link gestures to his v-neck. 

Rhett’s eyebrows crease and he flickers his eyes down as if reminding himself what shirt he has on. “Thanks?” 

“I didn’t pack for three days, but this t-shirt seemed clean enough. I smelled it, it’s not,” He notices Rhett’s uncomfortable look on his face and Link's voice drops to a whisper. “stinky.” 

Rhett nods like he doesn't want to be a part of this conversation anymore, moving closer. For a second, Link’s heart jolts and he hopes Rhett’s coming to stand by him, but Rhett passes and heads for the staircase. Link's voice echoes his words from yesterday in his head. _"I've never cared what another living soul thinks about me this much!" _

“Red?” Link says timidly, knowing deep down that he's on the precipice of losing everything as he says the nickname. 

Rhett turns around, one eyebrow up. “Since when do you call me that?”

Link lets out a weak laugh. “Dunno. Since you haven’t said more than two words to me since you came back.” 

Rhett sighs, turning back to Link and stepping a little bit closer. “I just don’t think this is a good idea.”

The bridge of Link’s nose burns, his mouth dry. “Oh, okay.” 

“I’m into you, but...” Rhett shoves his hands in his pockets and Link blinks numbly. 

“Yeah. No, it's okay." Link's throat burns, his fears confirmed. Rhett regrets it. 

“I’m not going to ruin your first relationship, Wea- Link.” Rhett’s voice is low.

“You wouldn’t,” Link’s voice wavers. “You wouldn’t, okay? Get over yourself.” 

Rhett hesitates, watches Link’s eyes gather with tears. “You know my baggage.”

“Of course I do. And I’m still here, aren’t I?” Link bites his cheek, crosses his arms. 

Rhett shrugs. “Guess I thought you mighta’ felt guilty or something. For backing out.”

“I told you, I just needed a minute. I still kissed you, didn’t I?” Link watches the gears churn behind Rhett’s forehead as he looks for more excuses. 

“You know I can’t- I can’t tell my parents, right?” Rhett says. 

Link doesn’t like the sound of that, but at this point there’s very little he’d do to derail this. He nods. 

“You know you only have one more month back at the farm, right? Then you’re back to school.” 

Link nods again. He keeps his stance firm and his eyes on Rhett’s. 

“You do know I’m _a man_, right?” Rhett starts to smile a little. 

“Oh, you are? Nevermind then,” Link drops his arms, his lips twitching upward. “I was _so_ confused at the beard, ya know.” 

Rhett’s eyes crinkle. “You really want to do this?”

Link rolls his eyes a little wetly, steps closer until their faces are close. “Why do you have so much doubt that I have a giant, ridiculous crush on you?”

Rhett shrugs, almost seems taken aback when Link leans in to kiss him. He reciprocates with a gentle enthusiasm, successfully taking Link’s breath away as efficiently as he had last night. "Hard to believe, is all."

"Believe it, Rhett," Link drops his face into Rhett's shoulder, wrapping his arms around Rhett's torso, initiating a hug for the first time. Link floods with something he can't name, an almost intolerable desire to never let go. "I heard the shower turn off from the bedroom. Can you sign the horse papers so we can go home?” 

Rhett puts his arms around Link’s shoulders and it feels all at once familiar and brand new.  “Yeah, we should head out soon,” Rhett says into Link’s hair, his voice sending tingly shivers cascading down Link’s spine. 

-

They leave with two loaves of zucchini bread, two mason jars of sweet tea, and a letter of thanks for Diane and Jim. Link loads everything into the back of the Subaru and climbs into the passenger seat. 

“Country?” Rhett fiddles with the radio, static turning into pop, fading into an annoying announcer who abruptly gets cut off by the Dixie Chicks. 

“You know it, brother!” Link grins because at this point he just can't help it. He's happy. He turns to stare out the window as the car gathers speed, morphing the trees into beautiful dark green blurs. When he feels Rhett grab his hand and lace their fingers together loosely, he relaxes into the touch, enjoying the feeling of a larger hand wrapped around his. 

He squeezes Rhett’s hand softly and leans against the warm glass of the window, happy to be moving swiftly toward toward the farm. What lies before them next, well, he doesn't know. 

But right now, with Rhett's hand in his, he doesn't care at all. 


	20. Arcade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week has been crazycakes, work is really picking up. Look for an extra chapter this weekend to make up for yesterday's. 
> 
> Here's a playlist.  
https://open.spotify.com/user/aquacas/playlist/1lIcjFAOeo9fhZkAQ7tM9w?si=KtdAGtYWTiCccVvEopg5xQ

If Link’s expecting things to change exponentially when he wakes up the next morning at 5:00 AM on the dot, he’s sorely mistaken. He stares at the bedside table and blinks before he digs the crusties out of his eyes and drags himself to the bathroom. He almost falls asleep on the toilet, his head lolling against the countertop. 

“Link, I swear to god!” Rhett bangs on the door, startling Link.

This time it’s funny, really, and Link yawns, yelling back, “Fight me!” 

“I’ll pee on your bed!” Rhett huffs. “I drank like a quart of water in the middle of the night!” 

Link giggles, getting up and tugging up his boxers. He flushes the toilet and washes his hands as slowly as possible. 

“You’ve seen me pick this lock,” Rhett gives one more solid bang.

“Is someone going to wet himself? Pee his pants?” Link teases from his side of the door. He sees the lock start to twist.

“Link it’s_ so_ early,” Rhett groans as he finally opens the door to a smiley Link in socks on the tile. “How in the world are you so alive?” 

“Just excited to be back at it, man! In our domain!” Link has the immediate impulse to kiss the dumbfounded look off Rhett’s face. He genuinely tries to then, only to be dodged.

“Not where they might see,” Rhett huffs, looking the slightest bit regretful. 

Link frowns, turns without a word to return to his room. 

-

“I take everything I said this morning back. I hate this,” Link whines as he picks up a sack of gravel later that afternoon. “Why are we hauling rocks?” 

“Do you listen?” Rhett heaves another bag in the back of the ATV. 

“Not to you!” Link wipes dust off on his hands.

“We’re filling all the little gopher holes so we don’t kill our suspension in this thing flying over them,” Rhett shrugs, like deep down he thinks this is kind of a shit idea.

“Holes? Like where the snakes live?” Link scowls, takes a step back from the ATV. “No way.” 

“Come on, it’ll take half an hour. Besides,” Rhett hauls the last bag in and leans back to look at Link. “Nobody can see us out there.” 

Link blushes hard and tries to cool down how badly he wants to get in the ATV now. They drive across the thick grass until Rhett slams on the breaks, almost sending Link flying off. “Found one!” He rips open one bag and pours gravel in, mashing it down with his Timberlands. 

It’s about ten gopher holes later when Link groans and jerks the steering wheel to throw Rhett off. 

“Hey man, watch it!” 

“Why did I come with you? I could be brushing Mini and Merle. I missed them so mu-uch!” Link looks in the general direction of the north pasture and lets out a dramatic sigh.

“I dunno, wanted you around for company,” Rhett smiles. “But if you’d rather be brushing the horses, by all means, I’ll drop you off.” 

“Come brush them with me,” Link smiles sweetly. “I want you around.I just also want them around.”

It makes Link’s heart somersault when Rhett says that, but he’d never say that aloud. Now that he _has_ him, he’s terrified to _lose_ him. He turns to watch Rhett’s face as he drives, the way his hair bounces with every small hill, the gentle way he wipes his nose with the back of his hand and then sniffs, like a bug just flew in there or somethin’. 

“Are you staring at me because there’s something on my face or what?” Rhett deadpans, his voice almost drowned by the motor.

“Just think you’re-” Link bites the word cute as it leaves his mouth. Rhett is so much more than that, cute is the teddy bear in the arcade venting machine. Rhett’s the whole fucking arcade, he’s giant and astoundingly cool all at once.

“I’m what, huh?” Rhett cuts the engine and Link lets a laugh escape into the new silence.

“Nice to look at, that’s all,” Link shrugs, is about to turn away when Rhett smiles back at him and catches his chin.

“Hey,” Rhett grins. “Can I?” 

Link about tackles him out of the vehicle. 

They brush the horses until it’s just ridiculous to still be out in this field anymore.

“I’m dying of thirst,” Link says as he lies back in the pointy grass. 

“Me too,” Rhett agrees, “and hungry as hell.”

“You’re always hungry as hell. We should take ourselves out tonight,” Link pictures a big pile of sweet potato fries and his mouth begins to water. He pictures Rhett cleaned up across from him and his mouth floods a little more.

“Yeah, I’ll invite the crew. Stevie texted me earlier asking what I was doing tonight. We can go to the Burlington mall, they’ve got an arcade and a food court.” Rhett smacks his dry mouth.

Link stays silent. If he wanted it to be a date, he should have just asked Rhett out. And besides, it _would_ be nice to spend time with another human being besides Rhett. Hell, he might see someone else and realize he’s just got Stockholm Syndrome. “Yeah, sounds fun.” 

-

Link drives his truck this time, demanding that Rhett’s car needs a break from all the driving. He's also a little homesick. And if he wants to show off his stick-shift skills, well, that’s his business. They roll up to the mall and it’s clear Rhett’s back in his own stomping grounds.

They trek through the only slightly-run-down mall, passing by a few travel luggage stores and earring boutiques. Link has no idea where they're headed and frankly, if he only had the shops he's seen to judge the place, he'd have left already.

“Can I hold your hand?” Link asks softly, covering his mouth with one side of his hand like this is some big secret.

“Not here,” Rhett gives a quick shake of the head.

“You know, you’ve been gay a lot longer than I have and I’m already more comfortable than you at it,” Link feels a pang in his heart that mimics the one from the bathroom this morning. His stomach twists.

“Good for you,” Rhett rolls his eyes. 

That one stings a little more.

Link sees Ellie two minutes later from across the mall and his entire face lights up, dashing forward to hug her. 

“Link!” Ellie squeals, having to stand on her tip-toes to embrace him. 

“Hi, Ellie. Sean,” Rhett nods to both of them. “Where’s Stevie?” 

“She’s with Cassie, they stopped to look at stuffed animals.” 

“I want to see the stuffed animals!” Link blurts out before he automatically glances at Rhett to see if what he’s said is annoying. Rhett doesn’t seem to be paying any attention, immediately moving on to talk about where they should eat for dinner.

They meet up with the couple in the food court. 

“Hey Cas, Stevie,” Rhett nods at them. 

“Hey guys,” Link nods in a similar fashion, prompting Stevie to stare at him for an extra minute. She looks at Rhett again too, and then back at Link. Then at Cassie. 

“How was Memphis?” Stevie asks with one eyebrow slightly off-level. Her voice is accusatory. 

“Great. We uh,” Link starts.

“Horses were fine. Got to ride some of the smaller ones, had a nice time.” Rhett stops him, quickly shutting down that conversation.

“Cassie, Sean, and I want_ tacos_,” Stevie narrows her eyes, stepping closer to Link to resume that conversation. “Ellie and Rhett want _hotdogs_. What do you want, Link?” 

Link blinks, pretty sure he never heard anyone say what they wanted for lunch. “Uhh, I kind of wanted a meatball sub.”

“Oh? Meatballs?” Stevie dramatically changes her face “Find me by the dance machine at eight o’clock.” 

Link’s standing there dumbfounded as she dramatically turns away and follows her girlfriend to get- hey! They’re getting burgers, not tacos! He watches Rhett wander off on his own to the sub place and jogs to catch up to him.

“Jesus,” Rhett says when Link appears. “You don’t have to follow me around.”

“Dang, I just wanted a meatball sub. What’s with you?”

Rhett breathes out of his nose and glances around before settling back on Link. “I can’t tell them.”

“Tell them what! I don’t even know what I’d say if I were to say something!” Link says exasperatedly, beginning to think he isn’t going to survive the summer of being Rhett’s Big Secret.

“I warned you what you were dealing with, Weakest. I told you this wasn’t a good-”

Link breathes a shaky sigh of relief at Rhett acknowledging it at all. “I know. I know, it’s fine.” 

They give each other hard looks for a moment before Link walks up to the counter and orders. Rhett doubles it, and then beats Link to the register. 

“Are the sandwiches together or separate?” The bored cashier drones, her finger hovering above the button on the register.

“Together,” Rhett says quickly, forking over his card.

Link smiles from behind him, confused but pleased. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

“I know,” Rhett huffs, giving Link his sandwich and heading back toward the table. “That’s just what you do when you’re going with someone.”

Link grins and has to look away, glad Rhett is a step ahead of him. He fights back a laugh at the middle school language and says, “Yeah? Are we going together?”

Rhett slides into a seat before he can answer the question, unwrapping his sandwich with a practiced ease, tearing into a bite just as Link slides in beside him. 

-

They made it to the arcade a little after seven, Link delighted to jump onto a car racing simulator. 

“I’m too big for that,” Rhett says a little bitterly. “And we don’t have any tokens yet.”

Link rolls his eyes and finds the nearest machine, getting twenty tokens. He divides them up evenly and walks back to Rhett, handing him ten.

“What?” Rhett blinks.

“That’s what you do, when you’re going with someone,” Link says the words with pride, noting for the first time in his life how good it feels to take care of someone. Even if Rhett’s huge and capable, Link likes the feeling of showing him he cares. 

“Let’s play ski ball,” Rhett grabs his hand for just a second, tugs link toward the machines against the ball wall of the dim and glowing arcade. Their fingers twist together for the shortest of breaths, but Link knows the sentiment. 

It’s 7:56 pm when someone taps the back of Link’s shoulder and says, a mere whisper, “_dance machine_.”

He remembers and excuses himself from Rhett counting tickets and finds a Dance machine with four colorful squares in it. He steps onto it and startles when Stevie comes out of the shadows and hops on the adjacent one.

“Look ahead, play the game. Talk to me,” Stevie slides two tokens in her machine and then two in Links.

“O-okay,” Link hesitates as the song queues up. He pushes the right foot three times, passing by songs until he hits “The Boy is Mine” by Brandy, Monica.

Stevie chooses “Quit Playing Games” By the Backstreet Boys, and together their songs start off fairly slow.

They dance. Link’s decent, right foot five times, left foot six more.

“What happened in Memphis?” Stevie asks casually, sliding a hairtie from her wrist into her long blonde hair. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Link lies, eyes locked on the screen. Right, left, back, jump.

“Yes you do, you two came back weird, ‘specially Red.” 

“We stopped in Nashville,” Link shrugs, working the movement into his dance.

Stevie does a double jump and ends up sideways, her eyes boring into the side of Link’s head.

“What happened in Nashville, Link?”

Link sweats. “He, uh, came out to me.”

“Ah-ha!” Stevie points a finger, her feet stepping on the colors perfectly. “You know he’s gay.”

“Yes, I do,” Link murmurs, a terrible liar. 

“But it’s more than that,” Stevie continues. She must know she's cornered the right person; Link's a mama's boy. He spills the beans.

“We found out his parents are selling the farm. We sold the horses,” Link says suddenly. He’s getting into this dance, even if it doesn’t really match the song. He holds onto the bars and jumps two forward, two back.

“We all saw that coming. Sucks,” Stevie slows down, missing a few up arrows. “What’s he thinking about doing next?”

“I don’t know. He’s scared.”

“Is that what you bonded over?” Stevie asks.

“What?”

“You’re clearly bonded over something, I assume it was you comforting him after he found out.”

“You could call it _comfort_,” Link mumbles with a smirk, genuinely surprised when Stevie’s head turns slowly toward him and she stops trying to hit the squares at all.

“Wait..” Stevie’s eyes turn into saucers. “You didn’t.”

Link’s mouth turns up. “We did.”

“You guys fucked?!” Stevie gapes, “I’m genuinely shocked.”

“No! We didn’t sleep together!” Link’s thankful when his song ends. “We kissed.”

“A fluke? Or a kiss like, this is going somewhere?”

“A good kiss. We’ve kissed like, six times now. Not that I’m counting!” Link holds up his hands and laughs. “And don’t tell him, he wants to keep it a secret!” 

He expects Stevie to make a snarky comment or roll her eyes; it seems within her personality that protecting Rhett is the number one priority here and suddenly Link is threatening that. He doesn’t expect her to step over to his platform and wrap her gentle arms around him.

“_God_, please be good to him.” She whispers into his shoulder. 

When she pulls back, he swears it’s a little damp where she was. He nods, long and slow, promising right then and there to never let anything hurt Rhett ever again.


	21. Surprises

The beginning of July hits the small farm like a warning, a wind storm blowing the shingles against the side of the house _tap, tap, tap_ like the steady rhythm of a clock counting down the days until Link has to go back home.

Link leans on his hands at the kitchen table and watches Mama Di cook, thinking that he has to make a point to call his own mom at some point.

“Are you making bacon?” Link scrunches up his nose, listens to the beating of the wind on the large kitchen window.

“No, you’re smelling the bacon fat I’m cooking with the collard greens. Wait until you smell the onions frying up in it,” Diane winks from the kitchen.

Link smiles, enjoying the smoky scent dissipating through the house. It’s nice being lazy in the early evening like this, the house tidy and comfortable around him.

“Shoot,” Diane mumbles. “I’m out of onions and garlic powder.” 

Link jumps up at the chance to be of help. “I can run to the store for ya, if you’d like.”

Diane looks over with a grateful smile. “Would you? Here, let me get you money. Don’t worry about the change, get yourself a treat honey.”

Link slides a baseball cap on and heads for the door, almost offended by how windy it is once he’s actually outside in the warmth. It’s a fifteen minute drive to the local market, Dean and Don’s, and Link grabs a bag from his car to use before he slams the truck door.

He wanders through the market, stopping for a bag of onions and some garlic powder, and then hesitates before he heads to the checkout. An idea sparks into his mind as his eyes land on a big jar of kosher pickles.

The idea forms quickly and it looks a lot like the two of them sitting out in the grass on a checkered blanket, eating fruit and cheese as they watch the clouds. He imagines Rhett leaning back and closing his eyes in the sunlight, absently dragging his palms over his stomach. 

“Picnic it is,” Link nods to himself, heading back to produce.

-

He gets back to the house and slides the groceries onto the table. “I’ve decided that tomorrow I want to have a picnic with Red, we won’t need lunch Mama Di.” 

Link ducks around her and puts the fruit and cheese into the fridge, praying that he doesn’t sound too ridiculously excited for his date.

“Oh, how fun. I’m so glad you two are getting along now!” Diane says, picking up the onions and digging them out of the mesh bag with her nails.

Link gets a twinge of guilt and he nods. “Me too. Guess we got used to each other after our trip.”

Diane smiles softly, like she can tell Link feels a little weird about talking about Rhett when the guy isn't around. She changes the subject. 

“The boys will be home soon. You want to finish off this bread as an appetizer?” 

Link nods hungrily, taking the last slice of zucchini bread and spreading butter over it to enjoy. “Can I take it upstairs?” 

“Mhm, but if anyone asks I didn’t allow it,” She grins, swiping the plate to throw it in the microwave for a second.

-

Link settles into the computer chair and brings the warm bread to his mouth. It smells just like the kitchen in Robyn’s house, toasty and packed with zucchinis. The bread is similar in texture to the muffins, but more savory and buttery in taste. He hums around it and loads up the browser and just stares at the search page for a moment. He has a lot of questions these days, about what it means to be gay, or bisexual, or how to build a giant slip n’ slide. (the last one came to mind after Jim mowed the large span of downward sloped grass out back) 

He makes it three bites before he finally settles on what to search for. He types _How to be a good boyfriend. _

He clicks on the first article titled, _Six Ways to Please Your Boyfriend_. Perfect, Link thinks. His lips twitch as he thinks about having a boyfriend.

The first task is easy enough. It says to shower! Link showers every day, he’s already on the way to being the best boyfriend. 

Second task is - well- it says to put on your best underwear. Link presses his lips together, easing back in the chair to peek past the waistband of his own joggers. Are faded blue boxers good underwear? 

Third task is absolutely obscene. Link’s eyes fly open and he feels the desire to close the tab as quickly as he can- but he does not. The thesis of the piece is that he needs to wrap his lips a  _ certain _ way around a  _ certain _ appendage, no teeth, no-

“O-kay,” Link cringes back into the chair, “I know enough.”

In his mind, it doesn’t seem intimidating. He was intimidated at the thought of doing things with Christy- but he’s not intimidated to go further with Rhett. Rhett’s big, sure, and the thought of doing this stuff with a man isn’t exactly something he’s used to, but at the end of the day it’s the same parts, right? If Link knows what he wants, he can just treat Rhett how he wants to be treated. The golden rule, applicable even now. 

He doesn’t keep scrolling, too afraid to see what comes next in the article. Thankfully, he chooses to close the tab just as Rhett and Jim return home. 

“Hey you,” Link says casually as Rhett enters the room and sits down on the bed to take off his boots. He can't stop thinking about the article, slightly keyed up as he watches set his things down.

“Hey,” Rhett sighs as he flops back onto the bed. Link takes the chance to get up from the desk and shut the door, walking over to the bed. He tries to bite back the almost inexhaustible desire to be closer to Rhett, but he succumbs to it. 

Link climbs onto the bed and presses his body flush against Rhett. He carefully presses his face against Rhett’s left pectoral and rests there, the tension in Rhett’s chest radiating through Link. 

“Hey,” Link murmurs again, his anxiety kicking in as Rhett doesn’t reciprocate. 

“Won’t they think it’s _weird_ that we’re in here with the door closed?” Rhett says finally, breathing out shakily like he’d been forming the thought for a minute.

“You’re paranoid. Cuddle me back, Rhett,” Link insists, his fingers creeping over Rhett’s chest as he pushes his face into Rhett. 

Rhett gives in, turns on his side and wraps Link in his arms.

Link immediately wants to sob- he can’t say why. Rhett rests his chin on top of Link’s head and throws a leg over Link’s hip, holding them flush together. Link inhales and closes his eyes, twisting their ankles together. 

It’s warm like this, warm and _safe._ Everything smells like Rhett here, from the sheets to Rhett’s breath, and Link feels real, desired. He recognizes that this, for whatever reason, is difficult for Rhett, but he's doing it anyway. Link holds him tighter at that, presses a kiss into the soft material of the flannel and lowers his hands to dig into the soft love handles at Rhett’s waist.

“You smell nice,” Rhett murmurs from above him, the sound rumbling through them both.

Link laughs against his chest. “You do too.” 

Rhett inhales so deeply Link can hear it, feels Rhett tighten his fingers against Link’s shirt. It’s another second or two before Link’s more primal instincts tell him to rut his hips forward, anxious to connect the only part of them that isn’t already touching. He feels anxious about that above all else, if he’s being honest with himself, but it’s hard to not obey when Rhett’s scent is this intoxicating. 

He moves his hips forward a fraction of an inch, closing his eyes to try and focus on the slightest touch. He isn’t ready when Rhett shifts forward, their belt buckles clinking together as he makes full contact. 

Link gasps, his hands clenching as he feels arousal flood down. It’s too much, suddenly, but it feels so good that Link’s hips move of their own accord and chase the friction. Rhett moves his hands to Link’s waist and stills them. 

“Easy baby,” Rhett nearly growls in his ear, “we only have five minutes until dinner.”

Link already feels tight against his jeans, isn’t sure exactly what he wants but knows he wants something that will take longer than five minutes to accomplish. He accepts Rhett’s suggestion and untangles himself from the man. 

“Kiss me, then?” Link’s flushed, knows he’s red in the face as he smiles up at Rhett.

Rhett nods and leans in, puts a soft hand on Link’s cheek as he kisses him. The kiss doesn’t help the issue in Link’s pants, distracting him a little as he pushes Rhett back onto his back and crawls up on him to kiss him hard. Rhett’s big enough,  _ broad  _ enough, that Link can put both of his forearms on his chest without knocking the breath out of him. Link’s torso is angled against the bed, allowing him to roll his hips against the mattress a few times as Rhett drags his teeth over Link’s bottom lip.

They kiss like that until Diane calls from downstairs that dinner is ready. 

Rhett is pretty quick to pluck Link off him and slide from the bed. He looks over Link with a concerned face, eyebrows to the sky. “Stand up, Link.”

Link stays where he is, stomach down on the duvet. He’s completely hard in his pants. He knows he looks remarkably too worked up for only having been in bed with Rhett for five minutes. “I don’t want to.” 

“You can’t go downstairs like that- I’ll tell mom you’ll be down in a minute. Go splash some water on your face, jesus,” Rhett says, but he’s fighting back laughter. 

“Fine, fine,” Link gets up and looks away as Rhett stares him down. “Stop looking!” 

Link tries to walk to the door and squeals as Rhett grabs him by the waist and gives a playful kiss to his neck. “Control yourself, Neal.”

Link rolls his eyes because that  _ isn’t helping  _ and shoves himself away with a shrill laugh. “I’m going, I’m going. Now get downstairs, I’ll be down in a minute.”

-

“Heard you guys didn’t want lunch tomorrow, not good for your old man,” Jim laughs gruffly as he shoves more collard greens into his mouth. “Diane said I had to fend for myself.” 

“Whatdoyamean,” Rhett mumbles around his own mouthful. 

“Link told me you two were going for a picnic, I thought _how cute_! And there's no sense in making food for one.” Diane smiles, taps Jim’s shoulder affectionately. 

“A _what_ now?” Rhett swallows. 

Jim’s eyes narrow. “You didn’t know?”

Link hastily shoots Mama Di a look, like there was any way she should have known that this was a secret.

“Oh, it was my idea, you know. I thought I’d surprise him,” Link laughs awkwardly, shoving a too-big bite of pork chop into his mouth. 

Jim huffs, says, “I thought that didn’t sound like Red. Men don’t like surprises.” 

“I like surprises,” Link says softly.

“Well Red doesn’t, do you boy?” He stares at Rhett until Rhett slowly shakes his head with his eyes stuck to his plate. For the first time Link can recall, Rhett isn’t eating anymore. 

“Oh,” Link says softly, pretends like he doesn’t think Rhett is playing along to make his dad proud. He doesn’t know though, does he? Maybe the picnic is a bad idea.

His appetite is gone, destroyed by the silence following that horrible conversation, and he fiercely wants to be alone with Rhett. Wants to scream at his dad that hey, Rhett might not like surprises, but he likes Link, and that’s enough.    
  
Link taps his shoe to Rhett’s under the table and seems to breathe life back into him. Rhett finally resumes eating and taps back, ever so slightly, below.


	22. Joie De Vivre

Link wakes up in the middle of the night to a noise downstairs, something distant that Link believes he might have imagined. He hears another sound like footsteps beyond his bedroom door and fears that it’s Mama Di again, sad and downstairs all alone. 

He opens his door softly and slowly, met with a faint glow coming from Rhett’s room, where the door is ajar. A light emits from downstairs too, so Link creeps down the stairs and to the entrance of the kitchen. He sees Rhett finish a cup of water and then wash it meticulously. It’s only seconds after he dries it and puts it away that he catches Link’s reflection in the window and turns accusingly. 

“Hey, I just-”

Rhett looks a mess, standing there in red striped boxers and a too-big white t-shirt. It looks damp around the right sleeve. His eyes are red and his hair is messy, half smushed from headphones and half medusa from anxious, sweaty hands. 

At the very least, he looks relieved to see it’s Link. Rhett steps forward and flicks off the kitchen light, drowning them in stunting darkness. Immediately after, he reaches out and drags Link in, buries his face in Link’s hair and holds too tightly around his chest. 

“Are you okay?” Link whispers.

Rhett shakes his head, moving Link’s with it. Link holds him back, shh’s him like he’s a small child or an animal, something vulnerable. His eyes struggle to find their focus in the darkness over Rhett’s shoulder. 

“He’ll get over it, okay? He’ll get over it. You won’t have to hide forever,” Link is careful to avoid the pronoun _we_, conscious of the fact that this is Rhett’s issue. This is Rhett’s life, and Link has only been a part of it for two months. 

Rhett lets out a staggered breath and nods this time, stooping down to press his lips into Link’s neck. 

“Do you still want the picnic tomorrow?” Link’s words are barely there, with his lips an inch from Rhett’s ear. 

“Yes,” Rhett whispers back, his breath hot against Link’s neck. It tickles, and Link grins, pressing his smile into Rhett’s shoulder. 

They go upstairs together and Link follows Rhett into his room, promises in a faint breath to leave after Rhett falls asleep. It comes quickly, with Link’s steady hand on his shoulder. It takes every ounce of Link’s willpower to leave, then, with the man of his dreams softly snoring beside him. 

He reluctantly shifts, makes to move, when Rhett rolls onto his side and reaches for him, hands loosely finding purchase on Link’s thigh.    
“Gosh,” Link’s heart breaks as he pries himself from the grasp, leaves for his room before he loses his strength and climbs right back into Rhett's bed and lets himself go under. 

-

Link’s borderline giddy as he washes strawberries and wraps them in a cloth, nestling them next to another cloth filled with cheese he had previously cut. He washes grapes and puts them beside the long baguette, leaving just enough room in the basket for two bottles of lemonade. 

“Look at those rosy cheeks,” Diane appears, just passing through. “Someone’s excited.” 

Link blushes, ducks his head and puts a cloth over the basket to protect from the bugs. He quickly excuses himself from the kitchen, walking over to the barn where he knows Rhett is fixing a hinge on one of the stalls. The minis are inside today and they seem pleasantly surprised to see Link. 

“Hey,” Link grins after he greets the horses. Rhett looks up and shoots him a sideways smile from the stool he’s sitting on. 

“Got lunch?” Rhett leans to peer into the basket, only to scowl at the covering cloth. 

“Yep, and a blanket. Ready to go?” Link wants to lean over and kiss him, but takes a step back, thumbing toward the shed. 

“Yeah, leave the basket here and go get the ATV and come back for me. I gotta finish this up.”

“I’m not leaving you unsupervised around food,” Link cackles, “You could put this away in five minutes.” 

Rhett looks mildly offended but owns it with a passive shrug before holding up his hands. “Fine, fine.” 

Link does as told, goes to get the ATV and returns to the barn five minutes later, happy to see Rhett waiting outside in dusty jeans. 

“Taxi for Rhett _“Red”_ McLaughlin?” Link uses his announcer voice like he’s a taxi driver and makes Rhett laugh wildly as he tucks himself into the seat. 

“Yes, that’s me,” Rhett chuckles. 

“Where are we headed, sir?” Link puts both hands on the wheel and tips his baseball hat at him. 

“West Pasture, boss,” Rhett says seriously.

“West Pasture? With the stream?” Link drops the character, looking over at him with curious eyes.

“Yeah,” Rhett says, “The ambiance is nice over there.” 

“But-”

“Link,” Rhett stills him, “I _know_. I want to show it to you.” 

Link presses the gas.

-

A few minutes after passing the garden, they start to approach the stream on the far end. Link watches Rhett out of the corner of his eye to see if he starts to tense. He seems fine, though, arm held out feeling the air. He seems at peace. 

Link pulls up to an open patch and grabs the large blanket from the back of the vehicle, lays it out over the prickly, overgrown grass, and settles onto it. The blanket flattens under him and he looks up at Rhett invitingly. 

“Foooood,” Rhett holds up the basket and raises his eyebrows. He plops down beside Link and avoids looking at the stream. 

“We got a much bigger creek back in North Carolina. Called the Cape Fear river,” Link says after they eat in silence for a while. He stares over at the small stream and pictures getting his feet wet. 

“I’ve heard of it,” Rhett says softly, depositing another grape into his mouth as he leans on his elbow. 

“I’ll take you there when you come to NC State,” Link grabs the next grape out of Rhett’s hands and pops it into his own mouth. 

“Oh yeah? When am I going there?” Rhett breaks off a bit of the baguette and Link almost laughs at how it’s half of the bread. 

“When you come to go to school there,” Link shakes his head. “You can still apply for the spring semester.” 

“Oh yeah?” Rhett grins, interlocks his ankle with Link’s.

“Yeah. I can get my mom to send an application in the mail, you can fill it out and mail it back directly to the school. They’ll let you know pretty quick.”    
Rhett nibbles at the bread and stares blankly at Link. “Can you ask her to send me one? Just in case?” 

“Of course!” Link beams, “I’ll call her tonight.” 

Rhett lies back on the blanket and shoves the basket away. “Come here.” 

Link looks down at the handful of strawberries he has and immediately drops them back into the basket and scoots closer. 

“Nobody can see us out here,” Link says, because it’s better than planning to say nothing and something stupid slipping out. It feels right like this, no doubt, but after Link’s internet escapade yesterday and the slight bit of boner-inducing cuddles, he’s scared. And the last thing he wants is for Rhett to catch onto that. 

“Yeah, all alone,” Rhett says, his eyelids low. 

Link learned what gay was when he was eight years old and his mom was alone; her first boyfriend after dad had left her three weeks earlier. One of her girls was over, the one with vivid blond curls and too-red lipstick. She had said, scathing, 

“He was_ gay_, to not want you. Absolutely _gay.”_

Link asked his mom long after Lillian had gone home what gay meant. 

“It means happy, really. But Lil’ mean that Derek likes men. But he didn’t like men, honey, he just didn’t like me. That’s okay.” 

Link hadn’t thought much more about it, didn’t really wonder if anyone he went to school with turned out gay. It’s not been something that’s part of his consciousness until he met the first stranger in twenty years and had the shocking realization that he wanted to see his cock. 

And it’s true, since the beginning, Link’s liked Rhett. Liked him all the way back when he only knew him as Grumpy Ole’ Red with the dirty blond hair and strong arms. He had no idea what he wanted to be doing for so long in his life. He looks over at Rhett now, stunned into silence by how beautifully stoic the man lying across from him is. He finally knows exactly what he wants to be doing.

Link lets himself feel that, lets the July heat seep from the air and pool deeper in his torso and relaxes into the sensation of _wanting_\- well- wanting to jump Rhett’s bones. 

“Come here,” Rhett says again, his tongue moving under his top lip like he’s trying the words on for size, spreads his legs like he wants Link to come put a thigh between them, just like that. 

Link nods, his shoulder already throbbing from being pushed against the hard ground for an extended period of time. He knocks Rhett onto his back and straddles him with little warning, looking down and licking his lips.

Rhett leans up, arms wrapping behind Link’s back to keep him on his lap. Link smiles into a kiss, leans closer and lets his fingers twist into Rhett’s hair in a deeply satisfying way. 

“I’m so into you,” Rhett murmurs between kisses, slipping his fingers into the loops of Link’s jeans in an attempt to get them closer together. 

This time, Rhett’s hard first. And honestly, Link feels exhilarated when he feels it against his right thigh, a swell of pride at having made Rhett hard just from sitting on his lap. He knows this time he’s allowed to wiggle his hips just right, to grind just enough to make Rhett moan against his mouth. 

The noise sparks something intense inside of Link and he pushes Rhett back down onto the blanket, starts kissing him recklessly before navigating his already swollen lips to Rhett's jawline, leaving little pecks at the edge of his beard. 

Rhett shifts so that Link falls off him onto his back, earning a Rhett on top of him on his hands and knees. Rhett’s hands go to Link’s fly and Link tenses against his own will. 

“This okay?” Rhett says, his breath smelling of grapes and lemonade. It makes Link lurch forward and kiss him again, his hands twisting into Rhett’s t-shirt. 

Rhett takes that as a strong yes and unbuttons Link’s jeans, not hesitating to tug the Levis down to his thighs. It’s then that it clicks for Link that he’s about to see Rhett’s cock. He breaks away from Rhett’s face and digs the buttons out of their holes on Rhett’s fly, anxious and aroused. 

“Gosh, Rhett,” Link grins, trying to get Rhett’s jeans down and having trouble getting them over Rhett’s bulge. Link lets Rhett take over and he takes his jeans off entirely, and then his shirt. Link blanches, watching Rhett strip in the sunlight filtering through the sparse trees.

Link takes the time to do the same, presses close to Rhett after, both of them on their knees in boxers with their clothes strewn around. 

“I’ve never been so naked like this outside,” Link confesses, the breeze feeling weird on his exposed stomach. He looks up to see Rhett staring at him with hungry, dark eyes. 

Rhett moves forward and puts tentative hands on Link’s hips, moving them apprehensively to the waistband of Link’s boxers. Link moves his hands out of the way and lets Rhett tug his underwear down, feels relieved and tense as his cock springs free.

Rhett’s immediately leaning back to his pile of clothes and digging a packet out of his jeans pocket. “‘S lube” 

Link nods, watches Rhett rip it open with his teeth and tries not to get more turned on by that. 

With fresh, warm lube on his hands, Rhett wraps his fingers around Link’s length and starts moving, encouraging Link to fuck into his hand. Link throws his head back and gets steady on his knees, holds onto Rhett’s shoulders and lets his hips snap forward into Rhett’s hand.

“Feels good?” Rhett murmurs. 

“Yes, gosh, yes,” Link’s forehead falls to Rhett’s shoulder and he reaches blindly for Rhett’s crotch, wants to give back what he's being given. Wants to _see_ it.

Rhett leans back, gives Link the space to tug down his boxers and watch Rhett’s thick cock bounce lightly against his stomach. 

“Wow,” Link breathes, their cocks close enough together that it doesn’t take much effort for Link to scooch forward and grind against it, the movement alone taking both of them to the next level. 

Rhett whimpers and holds Link’s hips to grind against him firmly, his cock leaking precum as it catches against Link’s stomach hair and peels back. 

“Wrap your- wrap your hands around them,” Rhett requests, hips thrusting off-beat as Link gets off his knees and lies back on the blanket, beckons Rhett to lie on top of him again and thrust down onto him. 

Link wraps his hand around both of their cocks, the lube slick enough that Rhett’s thrusts rock them both as he fucks down. Link closes his eyes and his mouth falls open as he fights how close to the edge he is already, focusing on the friction against his cock and the small sounds Rhett is making above him. 

“Shit, Rhett, I’m gonna,” He looks up at Rhett and memorizes how incredible he looks like this. He's flushed and focused, eyes sharp and determined. It's exhilarating and terrifying having Rhett's attention solely on him, his movements shaking them both in a way that sends waves of pleasure through Link. Link's balls tighten against him and he arches his back, presses hard into the movements once, twice, and a third final time as he comes hard between their stomachs. 

“Fuck,” Rhett moans, pushing Link’s numb hand away before grabbing himself and jerking over Link aggressively, thrusting into his own fist before swiping a finger over his slit and coming hard over his fingers. The cum drips down onto Link and he watches it happen in the foggy aftershocks.   
  
For a minute, they just breathe. Rhett collapses on the blanket beside Link and reaches down to intertwine their fingers. 

“Jesus,” Link laughs breathily. “That was something, wasn’t it.” 

He looks over and Rhett’s got his eyes closed, the cum drying on his stomach and everywhere but his limbs startlingly white in the sun. Link wants to touch, hasn’t yet had enough of his hands on every inch of Rhett, but he refrains from running his fingers through his chest hair as he watches Rhett try to steady his breathing. 

Link closes his own eyes, every biological instinct confused at the exhilaration of procreation being followed by the absolutely vulnerability at being exposed in broad daylight. The thought makes Link laugh and squirm, he drags his fingers through his own mess on his stomach and laughs into the air.

When he looks over at Rhett, Rhett’s staring into the distance. His expression is unreadable, but when Link squeezes his hand, he gives a light squeeze back. 


	23. Loud

The house is eerily quiet when they return after dropping the ATV off in the shed and finishing their afternoon chores. Rhett’s hair is still messy and Link’s shirt has grass stains rubbed into it. They walk quietly, not wanting to run into either of the parents right now. 

The hairs on Link’s neck stand straight up when they round the corner to the table and Jim is standing there with his arms crossed. Link swallows hard and notices a sheet of paper on the kitchen table.

“Dad?” Rhett asks with more confidence than Link thinks he could muster right now. 

“What in the _hell_ did you two do in Nashville?” Jim demands, his words mostly aimed at Rhett.

“Nothing!” Rhett immediately flares, stepping forward. 

“You do realize that was a business trip, right? For  _ business _ !” Jim scoffs, “I can’t believe I expected two of my _adult_ employees to go on business trip and behave as such.” 

Link’s anxiety flares up to his throat and he looks at Rhett for how to react with his fists clenched at his sides. He doesn’t know what Jim is talking about- but he has a pretty good idea, and his heart aches for the fear in Rhett’s eyes. 

“We’re sorry- we’re sorry,” Link steps in, his words drowning his own pounding heartbeat as he fills in the words that Rhett can’t find. 

“ _ Sorry _ ? Lincoln, I know you’re used to being a thoughtless college kid. But this is a business, something we have built. You two had orders and I’m disappointed. Imagine if you had made a scene!” Jim drags his hand down to his chin and glares daggers at them. 

“I’m sorry, it wasn’t the plan we just,” Link starts, voice shaking with the tremors rolling through his body. He wants Rhett to either run away or speak up- Link can’t fight this battle alone. 

“Enough- Red, what do you have to say for yourself, huh?” Jim asked, turning to his child. “I called Robyn to see if it had affected your professionalism. She ended up telling me you’d made plans to go to college. Said you were signed up and ready to go. Since when? I’d heard nothing of this. Gettin’ real tired of finding things out about you while you’re under my roof, son.” 

Rhett’s mouth falls open and he shrinks into himself, breathing hard in and out. “I don’t- dad, I’m not signed up to go to school. I don’t know where she heard that.” 

“I don’t trust a word out of your mouth right now, boy!” Jim snaps. 

Link waits for the retaliation, waits for Rhett to sneer and fight back the way he had with Link so many times before. Instead, Rhett shoves a hand through his hair and says,

“Right. Yeah, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it and I shouldn’t have tried to hide it from you.” 

Link’s almost offended by how quickly Rhett gives in to his dad's snide tone. It’s like watching a ball deflate as soon as it hits the rim. His fingers twitch with the unmistakably childish urge to make this situation worse out of pure distaste for authority. 

“I at least thought you’d be smart enough not to charge it to the room,” Jim shakes his head. 

“Charge it to the room?” Rhett’s head snaps up.

“The drinks! You charged $40 of alcohol to the room, dingbat! I stay there _ every _ year, I hope you left the room in good shape- I don’t need them judging me on  _ your  _ sloppy habits. And I’m surprised you made it to the farm the next day on time- if you had been late!” Jim’s growing red in the face again as he spits out words.

Link’s heart rate spikes. He suddenly knows exactly why Jim is mad- all the drinks he had with Sophie were charged directly to the room. Of course. He should fess up right now, but he’s no longer just afraid of Jim- Rhett is also right there realizing that this is all Link's fault. At least it doesn’t seem like Jim knows about the gay shenanigans. 

“I didn’t realize it wasn’t okay to drink, I’m sorry,” Link hangs his head, genuinely regretful that he didn't consider that before he went down to the bar. At least Rhett had the decency to go _out_ to drink. 

_“Didn’t realize_, with you kids it’s always ‘didn’t realize’. So it was your idea, Lincoln? Because I know your mom would love to hear about this.” 

Link’s blood boils. He’s 22 now, he’s legally allowed to drink and he’s definitely not under his  _ mom’s  _ jurisdiction anymore. If this were anyone else, he would sneer that he should go ahead, tell his mom that he had some drinks at a hotel bar at 11:30 pm. That only a psychopath would care about this. 

But here’s the thing: it is his employer. His sole reference for what he spent this entire summer doing. And more so, almost  _ painfully _ more so, the guy standing beside him means more to Link than any reference, means so much to Link that Link would rather throw himself in front of a bus than see him get hurt. He swallows his pride, face red with everything he’s repressing.

“It was my idea, dad. I didn’t reali- I _thought_ it charged to my card, not yours. I’m sorry, it won’t happen again,” Rhett lies so convincingly it makes Link’s stomach churn. 

“Whatever. I’m taking it out of your next paycheck, boys. Get back to work,” Jim says with an air of finality. 

Rhett turns on his heels so quickly that Link has to jog to keep up with him. 

“Rhett, you didn’t have to take the fall there, I would have owned up-” Link says, breathless and sacred once they're outside.

“No,” Rhett says as he digs into a toolbox in the back of the shed. “You think that would have ended well you for? For either of us?” 

“No, I don’t. But-” 

“He already doesn’t like me, Link, better to keep you in his good graces,” Rhett mumbles over a cigarette shoved in his mouth. He shoves a handful more in the pocket of his jean jacket and Link hears the jingle of keys in there too.

“Are you leaving?” Link asks dumbly. 

“Yep, we need more,” Rhett blanks, “gravel. Or whatever. I’ll be gone until late.”    
  
“Let me come,” Link says firmly. 

“No! Leave me alone!” Rhett snaps, and it hits Link right in the chest. 

“That’s no way to speak to your boyfriend,” Link retaliates in an aggressive need for affirmation, suddenly wishing he had expressed more of this rage at Jim. 

“Boyfriend?” Rhett laughs humorlessly, shoving past Link to get outside so he can light the spliff in his lips. Link’s mouth gapes open as he follows at Rhett’s heels until they’re almost to Rhett’s car.

“I’m sorry, were you _not_ the one who asked me to go with you? Are you not the one who I just had sex with in a field?” Link snarls, grabbing Rhett’s arm to forcefully turn him toward Link.

“Shut up, won’t you? You had the same thought as me when he started yelling- we thought we were found out,” Rhett takes a long drag of the cigarette and blows it out with no regard for Link’s proximity. 

“Rhett, I’m not one of your fuck buddies, okay?” Link’s heart pounds. He doesn’t care who hears him. 

Rhett’s eyes grow furious. “Get in the fucking car.”

Link does so, because at least Rhett can’t escape from him there.

Rhett slams the door and keeps smoking with the windows up. Link coughs roughly, tries to roll down the window and can’t because the car is off. He longs for the crank of his old pickup.

“Oh? I’m sorry, is this bothering you?” Rhett takes another drag. His own eyes are bloodshot, Link knows this isn’t pleasant for either of them. “Well this is my car, Link. And this is my life.” 

Rhett starts the car and rolls down the window, prompting Link to stick his head out like a dog in an attempt for fresh air. Before he can even buckle, Rhett is peeling out of the driveway and heading south.

“Where are we going?” Link coughs. 

“I’m trying so hard, Link, to be comfortable with having you here. And the second I went overboard, the second I put that packet of lube in my pocket I knew it would be bad news.” Rhett ignores the question, white-knuckling the steering wheel. 

“He didn’t know about that! That was just for us, Rhett! I know the thought of not making your dad happy immobilizes you, but you have to let yourself be selfish sometimes! Didn't that make you happy?” Link tugs on his seatbelt, not entirely convinced that Rhett isn’t trying to kill them both.

“I can’t do this, Link,” Rhett says gruffly, eyes straight ahead. 

Link’s anger is replaced by something worse. “Rhett, don’t do this.”

“It’s better if I keep my personal life and my work separate. That was just too close of a call,” Rhett sounds like he’s on the verge of tears. Link wants to join him there.

Neither of them say anything as Link struggles not to cry in the passenger seat. It's impossible to judge how long it's been when Rhett pulls off the road into the parking lot of a bar. They both get out and walk up in a nearly empty parking lot, entering through two tinted doors. Even the inside is deserted at a quarter to five in the afternoon, but Rhett seems undisturbed in his beeline for the bar.

“Hey, Sean,” Rhett nods as he sits down. 

Link’s amazed to see Ellie’s boyfriend behind the counter. It distracts from from the pit in his chest.

“Red! Link! Nice to see y’all. Good timing, I just got here to prep for night shift,” Sean says with a hint of apprehension in his voice. 

“Well, we’ll keep you company. Can I get a double of Patron, salted rim, chilled?” Rhett declares with little grace, immediately lighting up another cigarette. 

Link rolls his eyes and, feeling heartbroken at the weird turn of events of today, asks Sean for a lemon drop and turns to stare at Rhett as they wait. 

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” Link says without much bite to his voice. At this point, what's he got to lose? 

“I know,” Rhett agrees, but this time he holds out the cigarette for Link to try. 

Link takes it and stubs it out in the provided ashtray. “You need a break.”

“Why you always tryina’ save me man, let me self destruct.” Rhett whines, tapping his fingers anxiously. 

Link softens, nodding a thanks at Sean when he drops off their drinks. “I know it’s hard, man. I’m sorry for the pain I’m inflicting on you. For what it's worth, I've never felt this happy with someone." 

Rhett smiles a little at that, to Link’s great relief. "Me either. Scares the shit out of me," Rhett tells him. 

Link can't figure out if he's comforted or disturbed by Rhett's vague words. They sit quietly until Link finishes his lemon drop and taps his fingers together with the condensation from his glass. He doesn’t want to say anything else, but his stomach hurts with an intense need for clarification.

“You really don’t want to do this anymore?” Link asks softly, his eyes glued to the small glass in front of him, the rollercoaster rush of emotions from the day converging in a way that makes his head spin. 

“I couldn’t quit you if you if I wanted to, Weakest. I appreciate you not letting me jump overboard,” Rhett says after a few moments of silence.

Link breathes in and finally puts a hand on Rhett’s thigh. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” He wants to tell Rhett that despite this, he needs some commitment. That he's only able to be there emotionally if he knows he's not going to get hurt. But he shoves those emotions down and squeezes Rhett's thigh.

Rhett slides his keys across the bar to Link and orders another drink from their friend. All at once Rhett’s a category five hurricane, presenting as a distressed kid at a bar, finding solutions to problems he can't begin to articulate. Maybe there’s more there, something Link can’t read behind Rhett's hazy eyes, but he’s so tired of being a mind reader. 

He keeps his hand on Rhett’s thigh and lets the storm pass. 


	24. Hey, Ma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This song makes this chapter a bit more special, I think.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HDAKS18Gv1U

Rhett’s well on his way to drunk by the time the clock nears eight. Link never ordered a drink beyond the lemon drop. Their bar stools are close together, and occasionally Rhett bends over to wipe his lips messily across Link’s.

“Hey,” Rhett murmurs, tired of eating the peanuts on the bar. “Can we go get burgers?” 

Link almost laughs. “Sure, you absolute endless pit. Where are we going for burgers?”

Rhett shrugs, reaching for another peanut. “A burger place.”

“We must have missed Mama Di’s dinner,” Link acknowledges, mostly for himself. 

“She knows I go ‘way when daddy yells,” Rhett slurs, his face morphing into a frown.

“Rhett,” Link breaths, reaching out to push his hair back. “It’s okay. Let’s go get burgers, okay?” 

Rhett’s face screws up like he could cry. Link runs a hand down his face, smoothes out the creases. Rhett leans against Link’s hand, eyes falling shut. His breath smells like tequila. 

“You’re driving,” Rhett declares as he stands up shakily. His brow furrows. “Do you know how to drive manual?” 

Link laughs loudly, pays Sean and promises him he’ll take care of Rhett before he leads his giant drunk boy out of the bar. Link briefly expects it to be dark outside, but he’s mistaken as they step out into the tail end of the sunset. Rhett grins up at the milky orange sky and reaches out for Link’s hand. 

“‘S the color of cheese, cheese on burgers.” Rhett decides, the whites of his eyes expanding as he takes in the light. “Beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful, let’s go,” Link giggles, thinking that he’d sure like to shove Rhett against his car and kiss that goofy smile off his face. 

“Wanna cigarette, Weakest. Can you- can you get the lighter-” Rhett whines, leans over the console to try and reach into the driver side cupholder. 

“No, baby, no more today. You’ll stink when we get home, and the last thing we need is more grief from your dad,” Link grabs his hand instead, enjoying the looseness of acting like a protective boyfriend. He can't help but enjoy Rhett's walls crumbling for once.

“Ugh,” Rhett leans his head back dramatically and kicks his feet.

Link laughs and heads down the road toward the only strip mall in the area- sure there’s a burger place on the corner of Church and Main. He’s right- to his mild surprise- and Rhett looks absolutely delighted when he realizes where they are. 

“Burgers! Great idea, man,” Rhett whacks him a little too hard on the thigh and unbuckles, making for the door like someone just off a hunger strike. 

They get a little table and Rhett orders a double stack and a mountain of fries. Link goes for the junior burger and says he’ll share Rhett’s fries. 

“My fries,” Rhett mumbles around a fistfull of them. “_Mine._” 

“Nope,” Link says as he steals one. 

“Ten dollars,” Rhett says.

“Ten kisses,” Link amends. 

Rhett squints, considering, and then nods, like he’s okay with that trade. They eat in a happy silence, Rhett sobering up considerably as he eats all of his food and finishes off the tomato Link gingerly removed after one foul bite. 

Link watches the inebriation drain from Rhett's eyes only to be replaced with a sort of sadness sinking into his broad frame. The man's shoulders drop down as he shoves the place away. 

“I guess we should go back,” Rhett says like he’d rather do anything else.

“Okay,” Link agrees on both accounts, grabbing their check to go pay at the counter. 

-

Link gets a pit in his stomach the minute he slides into the driver’s seat. He doesn’t know where it’s coming from this time, because the danger seems to have passed. Rhett is staring out the window mumbling along to the music on the radio. Just when the anxiety should start to simmer down in the quietest moment, it kicks into overdrive and Link almost yanks the wheel to pull the car over to vomit. 

“I think we ate bad burgers,” Link says with his eyed closed as soon as he shuts off the car after pulling into the driveway. “I feel real sick, man.” 

“I feel fine,” Rhett shrugs, stepping out of the car to walk around and get Link’s door. “Come on, go inside and we’ll get some water.” 

Link moans, every inch of his chest and stomach tight. He grabs Rhett’s hand and tries to squeeze away the panic attack, fights to breathe and think as Rhett stares at him with hazy, confused eyes. 

“If you shit your pants I’ll still like you,” Rhett assures, which succeeds in making Link laugh a little. 

“It’s not that, I,” Link winces as he focuses too long on his heart rate and gets nauseous at the thought of the blood pulsing through him. He wants to crawl into Rhett’s arms and live there. “I want to go inside. Come on.” 

They walk into the house around nine thirty and it’s empty. Or at least, that is the logical conclusion they come to. The kitchen light is still on, as is the TV in the den. Rhett hollers for his mom and nobody responds.

“Uh, Rhett,” Link says as he picks up a note on the kitchen table. His panic is the sun, not burning until it’s brought to a focus, and here it is now, in this note.

_ Red- _

_ One of the cows trampled your dad. The ambulance is on the way- we’re going to Blount Memorial Hospital. Meet us there when you get home. _

_ 7:24 pm _

_ Love,  _

_ mom _

Rhett snatches the note from a numb Link and reads it, and then reads it again. Link knows that his head is churning, but Rhett goes to grab for his keys, still warm from the ignition. 

“Rhett, you’re not sober, I’m coming,” Link insists, the panic attack now rearing its ugly head again. At this point, he's almost certain Rhett's fine, and someone mid panic attack shouldn't be driving either, but he doesn't want to be alone.

“I’m fine, I promise. I’m leaving,” Rhett says firmly, despite his hands trembling. “Keep your phone on you.” 

“I will, I promise."

“And don’t,” Rhett stops himself with a hand on the doorknob, “Don’t panic, okay?” 

Link nods, already panicking. He can’t decide if being alone in the house right now is the best thing for his mental state or the worst. Deep down, he’s afraid to see what happens when Rhett leaves. 

“Come here,” Rhett crosses over to Link quickly, tugging their lips together once for a chaste peck. It’s a gentle sort of aggressiveness, controlled chaos. 

It’s more reassuring than Rhett intends as he tugs the door shut behind him and Link watches the headlights, just now dimming, flicker back to life. 

-

Link locks the front door and turns off all the lights in the house. He goes into the kitchen and crouches into the L of the counters, his bottom touching the cold tile and his arms wrapped tight around the knees drawn to his chest. 

He rests his forehead on his kneecaps and breathes in and out as evenly as he can, but at this point his motivation to stop the panic is low. When he’s all alone like this, it’s easier to slip into it, the calm allows for a natural progression into terror. He used to wait like this when his mom had to work late nights. He’d make chicken nuggets and eat them in the corner of their small kitchen, feeling helpless and scared when any other kid would feel powerful and free. 

His mom would come back home and see the crumbs in _ just _ the corner and weep, knowing, and Link thought she was mad for so many years. As a kid he never thought about the fact that she _ hated _ herself for not being there for him, unable to make him dinner and wash his hair in the shower. 

The job she needed to keep them alive kept her from him. He understood that early on, to some degree, but he’s older now. He _feels_ the pain. He cries real time into the light khaki fabric of his shorts. He trembles, shaking with open-mouthed sobs as he leans into the stains of wet, aches for her to come hold him. 

The darkness settles around him until he’s no longer crying, until the only light is the innocuous red blip of the stove across the room. It’s safe here, where he’s not really existing. Nobody could find him. Except Rhett, of course. Link digs out his phone before he can start crying about that too. His hands shake so hard he has trouble dialing her number.

“_Mama_,” Link whimpers into the receiver the second she picks up. He can’t help himself. 

“Baby,” Sue says immediately, her voice as comforting as the pile of blankets she would dump on him when he watched Saturday cartoons in only pajama pants. 

“Mama, I’m having a hard time,” Link chokes, the phone flush against his face and gathering tears. 

“Darling, it’s hard being grown up, I know. It’s hard being all alone,” Sue lets him cry, lets him be upset without expecting him to get any better.    


His chest feels tight with all the things he can’t say. He leans his head back against the counter and takes a shaky breath. “Mama, can I tell you something?” 

She hesitates on the other end. “Yes, honey.” 

“You gotta promise not to see me any different, okay?” Link’s begging, pausing his words to let out a strangled cough. 

“Nothing in the world could make me see you as anything other than the greatest thing that ever happened to me, Link. Nothing.” 

He wipes his sleeve across his face and calms himself down enough to say, “I have feelings for another boy. Red and I, we like each other. And I kiss him, and sometimes more than that. And I know not everybody is okay with that, but I’m happier than I’ve ever been, mom. So happy,” Link sobs, the irony lost as he listens to his mom absorbing the information. 

“Baby, I meant it when I said nothing could change how I see you. I’ve been wondering for a few years when I’d see you with a girl, but it turns out I was just looking out for the wrong thing. And that’s okay,” Sue finishes strongly, but Link can tell she’s teary eyed. 

“I’m sorry, mama, and I love you. And right now I’m just missing you so much,” Link feels deflated now, weak and held up by wood paneling alone. 

“I miss you more than life itself, baby. And just as proud.” 

Link closes his eyes and listens to his mom breathe through his phone. They stay like that until Link feels a bit more whole, a tiny bit more like a human being. Then she needs to go shower and head to work the night shift at the hospital so he lets her go. 

He decides to shower too, tired of making decisions for himself. He keeps the phone close by like Rhett asked, perching it on the towel rack outside of the tub. It never rings. By the time he’s scrubbed every inch of his red skin, the bathroom is filled with a suffocating steam. He towels off and pads down the hallway in clean boxers some time later.

He climbs into Rhett’s bed and gets his damp hair all over the pillows, dragging the duvet over himself. The anxiety is still there, deep inside his bones at this point. He messes with the stuff on his bedside table. Rhett's camera. Rhett's journal. 

Some intense need for intimacy makes him pick up the thick leather book and slide the leather strap out. He flips open to the last bookmarked page. It’s not his business, but he’s too curious and god  _ damn _ he’s tired of being a good person all the time. 

_ 07/02/1998  _

_ I’m scared. I know things are changing soon. Eventually I’m going to have to face what happens when our family moves on without him. I keep waking up abruptly in the night, like right now. And I can’t stop thinking about how different things are without him. _

_ But Link was there this time. I used to think the concept of love was stupid. I was fine with Lucas and Anthony and seeing them infrequently, messing around every couple ‘a weeks. I guess it’s scary that I want more than that now. Link’s made me soft. But maybe there’s bravery in that, right? And maybe love is stupid. But maybe happiness, real happiness, is admittin we ain’t better than stupid. _

_ -Red _

Link closes the journal softly, pointedly, and all at once thinks of everyone he has loved in the entirely of his life and feels impossibly small. He falls back onto the bed, trembling with the weight of every emotion and regret of the last twenty-two years logged in his ribcage. 


	25. Youngest Child

Rhett comes home at the crack of dawn the next morning and Link wakes up as the shower cuts on down the hall. It gives him a few minutes to style his hair and put on fresh clothes, gives him enough time to stare at his puffy eyes in the small mirror in his room. 

When Rhett comes out of his room damp but otherwise calm in the face, Link feels a rush of relief. 

“Updates?” Link asks before anything else, tense only because Rhett came back alone. 

“Uh, he’s okay. Steer kicked ‘em right in the ribcage. Three broken ribs, punctured lung. Needs to stay in the hospital a few days so we’re going to be working overtime around here.” Rhett’s head is down as he ties his work boots. “You coming?”

Link nods rapidly, grabbing his shoes from beside his bed. “Of course.” 

“Let’s get everyone fed and then we can go to the hospital around noon. I left with orders from mom, gotta bring dad something home cooked, I guess,” Rhett shrugs, starting down the stairs as Link hurries after him. 

“I’ll feed the horses and chickens, you get the cows and water for everyone?” Link steps out into the dewy grass of early morning and it feels different this time, like there’s no safety net. 

“Sounds like a plan. Meet back up at the house in an hour,” Rhett commands, turning to walk toward the barn. 

“Wait, Rhett?” Link says meekly. His cheeks flush. 

“Yeah?” Rhett looks impossibly stressed, like he didn’t sleep at all last night. His eyes are red and deep, it looks like he had been crying too. It feels like too much to ask anything at all of him.

“Can I have a hug?” Link feels four feet tall, expecting Rhett to roll his eyes and walk away, or scoff and give a half-assed side hug.    
  
Instead Rhett’s shoulders seem to release some of their tension and he walks into Link, wraps him up with his whole body and pushes their cheeks together warmly. Link returns the embrace immediately, sinking into Rhett’s chest and inhaling like he’d been waiting for it to in order to breathe. 

“I was worried about you,” Link whispers, his glasses knocked askew. 

“I meant to call. I stayed up talking to my mom for a long time,” Rhett says. 

“Me too. I called mine and cried, oh Lord I  _ cried _ ,” Link feels the slightest burn of tears at the memory. 

Rhett holds him tighter, doesn’t give Link the chance to say that he’d told his mom about them. That she was okay with it, that the relief that came after nearly drowned Link. When they release, Rhett kisses the top of his head once more and says nothing as he heads toward the East pasture where the cows stand sleepily around, thawing with the rising sun.

-

Link makes it back to the house first, starts preparing potatoes and carrots for a hearty soup. He likes cooking, been doing it more with Mama Di than with his own mom, and it’s soothing to peel the carrots off into the sink. When Rhett joins him and sits breathily at the table, it’s nice.

Within an hour he has a hearty vegetable soup and two pork chops seared with gravy. Link packages them up nicely in some pastel pink tupperware and puts them in a grocery bag. 

“Never met a boy who can cook good like that,” Rhett takes the bag. “Impressive.” 

“My mom was never home, I learned how to cook well real fast when I was a teenager. My mom had this boyfriend named Ken who was a real chef. He taught me things like sous vide.”

“Get the fuck outta’ here with that talk.  _ Sous vide _ ,” Rhett’s mouth twitches, teasing.

“I’ll cook for you sometime,” Link grins, basking in the praise, “Now let’s get over there so he doesn’t starve to death why he’s trying to heal.” 

Link doesn’t know why his heart is pounding in his chest as he approaches Jim’s hospital room- it’s not like it’s his deathbed. 

“Hey Mr. McLaughlin,” Link gives a warm smile as he puts the bag of food on the bedside table. 

The man looks pretty bruised up, and pale, but otherwise in good spirits. He smiles tight-lipped when he sees Link. 

“Hey, Lincoln,” Jim says. “Is the farm okay?”

Link laughs a little at the strong attempt for familiarity and says, “Yes, we got everything sorted when Red came back this morning.” 

“I’m glad you and Red are here, now. I haven’t told anyone this yet, but I did some thinking this morning. I have something that I’ve decided.” 

Rhett sits down by his mom and puts an arm around her. Link, left without a seat, crosses his arms and frowns. 

“Out with it, dad,” Rhett says. 

“We’ve decided to sell the farm, as you know from Robyn and Jules, and originally the plan was to sell it next spring. We’ve already got someone interested.” 

“Okay, so what’s the plan now?” Link asks.

Jim’s eyes flicker to his hands, and then to his wife. Then, Rhett. “I’m too old for this. I’ve felt that way for years, but this was the final straw. I want to sell the farm in August.” 

“August?!” Diane jumps to her feet, knocking Rhett's arm off. “Next month?!” 

“The buyer is very motivated, the farm was in her family years back, she’s six months pregnant and wants to have the kid after they move in. We’ve got the old house back in Fuquay, the tenants move out in two weeks. It’s really perfect timing!” 

Diane looks distraught, Rhett looks like he’s displeased that he can’t break things in a hospital.

“No!” Diane roars, immediately retreating into herself after the outburst. “Cole!” 

“Cole’s scattered in North Carolina, honey, he’s not there-” Jim starts, but it’s a bad move. 

“You know half of his ashes are in that _field_, Jim,” Diane starts crying, her words shuddering before crashing. 

“This farm was for him, it served its purpose. But it’s not right for us anymore, we have to let it move on. Let us move on.” 

Rhett’s standing in the corner now, his eyes glazed over and his hands by his sides. Link tries to gain eye contact, but Rhett is somewhere else. 

“He’s there, he’s in that bedroom, I can’t leave him yet, I haven’t had a chance to say goodbye,” Diane crumbles, sits back down and buries her head in her hands. 

“I miss him too, honey, but he’s not there. This farm did this to me! Broke me! Do you want to lose _me_ too?” Jim motions to the bandages on his torso. 

“No! Of course not,” She says. "I've lost damn near enough already."

“Then it’s time. The farm’s in my name, I’ve made my mind up. On August 16th we’re signing it over,” Jim declares.

“I want to do something for Cole before, then, something nice-” Diane begins. 

“Can you all,” Rhett breaks in sharply, his voice deafening with a dangerous edge that Link has never heard before. "Shut the _fuck_ up." 

“Red!” Jim scolds. 

Diane is smarter, because she says nothing. 

“Not once, in the past  _ six  _ years, have either of you checked in with me. Neither of you cared that I turned down a freaking basketball scholarship in California so I could be around for our family. I never got the bigger room, or the front seat, and I never got the last hug at night. And now, on the precipice of losing my _entire_ life as I know it, you are both acting like I’m not in the fucking room!” Rhett roars, his composure dissolving as anger gathers in his breath. “He’s dead, guys! Cole’s fucking dead! And your living, breathing son hasn’t been paid attention to in so long y’all don’t know one fucking thing about my life!” 

Jim and Diane look shocked, and Link, well, he’s only surprised that Rhett is saying it. 

_ “Red _ ,” Diane begins, reaching out a hand. 

“That’s  _ not _ my name!” Rhett snaps, “it’s Rhett. Red is what Cole called me, because that’s what mattered about me, right? It’s only ever been him that matters.”

“That’s not true!” Jim interjects. 

“Then prove it. Prove that I mean anything to you.” Rhett sniffs hard, drags his arm under his nose and clenches his fists. “I’m out of here. Enjoy the soup, dad.” 

Rhett leaves and there’s no question if Link should follow. Link stays right behind him until they’re in the parking garage again and then gathers Rhett into his arms, kissing his neck and face until the hot tears recede. 

“They love you,” Link says, thinking about his mom again. “Even when you think they don’t, even when they aren’t there for you as much as you’d like, there’s stuff you can’t see that’s going on. They love you.” 

“I don’t know what to do,” Rhett says softly, “I can’t move back into my childhood home, that’s not me. I've outgrown this family.” 

“You won’t have to, what about college, huh?” Link kisses his lips, not caring that they’re in public. The parking garage feels safe, private enough. 

“I don’t know. I haven’t been to school in four years, what if I’m not ready? I want to stay with you, Link, but I don’t know. If that’s my only choice, that’s not much of my choice is it? I’m tired of people making decisions for me.” Rhett’s hands are hard on Link’s hips. 

“It’s not, it’s not your only choice, baby,” Link says, desperate for Rhett to calm down. 

“What do you mean?” Rhett's expression shifts to look hopeful.

“Well, actually,” Link says, speaking before he can really think about it, “Robyn said she wanted to offer you a job.”

“She did?”

“Yeah! A full time position at the farm up in Memphis. So you have a backup,” Link grins, waiting for Rhett to mirror it. He doesn’t.

“Why did she tell you and not me?” Rhett takes a cautious step away from Link.

“I, uh, well, she told me and I said you were thinking about school, so you might not say yes!” Link lies, putting his hands up weakly.

“And then Robyn told my dad… you must have said something more than that, if she thought I was signed up and ready to go,” Rhett accuses, eyes narrowing into slits. 

“I don’t know how she took it, but,” Link tries to lie but he can’t. 

“Link, did you _lie_ and say I had already made up my mind? When I had a chance at a great job offer for my future? Especially when you knew at that point that my dad was about to sell the farm!” Rhett yells, a good five feet away at this point. The distance is more than just physical. 

“I didn’t mean to! It just came out and it was too late!” Link’s voice catches in his throat and his head is pounding with how badly he wants to cry. The faint headache he’s had since last night blossoms across his temples. 

“Wow,” Rhett laughs humorlessly, shaking his head. “You’re just like them, aren’t you?”

“No! I’m nothing like them!” Link says, pleading. His hands search for something. Forgiveness, maybe, or a sharp slap to his wrist. 

“Fuck off, okay?” Rhett says; the words aim for scathing but just come out wet. 

Link hates it, hates himself at the same time. “I can call her and ask...” He trails off weakly, giving up on his last ditch effort.

“Go away, Lincoln. I want to be alone, the way I’ve always fucking been.” Rhett’s face ends the conversation as he climbs into his car and slams the door loudly enough to echo across the parking garage. Link backs up against the wall as Rhett pulls out and drives away, too fast.

When the echoes stop, he slides down the concrete wall and stares blankly ahead. 


	26. Crashing

Stevie and Cassie come to pick Link up from the gas station about thirty minutes from the hospital. He’s leaning against the side of the air pump with a foul look on his face when they pull up in Cassie’s car. 

“Were you trying to walk home, idiot?” Stevie greets him with a bone crushing hug after she steps out. 

He leans into her arms, tired and damp with sweat from walking. The look on his face replaces itself with one of comfort. 

“You look rough, amigo. Want to come over and play Scrabble?” Cassie asks as they climb back into the tan sedan. 

“I don’t know. I guess so,” Link responds absently, relieved to be off his feet.

-

“Elephant,” Cassie exclaims after laying down five tiles in front of the word ‘ant.’ “Fourteen for me.” 

“I contest!” Stevie says dramatically from where she’s leaning against the couch while sitting on the floor. Cassie taps her head and takes five tiles from the draw bag. “Whatever. Link, your turn.”

Link stares at the board without really seeing it, knowingly distant and quiet as he reads every word slowly. “Pass.”

“No way, this board is great,” Cassie shakes her head, scooting over on the sofa to peek at Link’s letters. “See? You can play eminent off the e in elephant. Unless you want to just put an S on beard.” 

“Rhett has a beard,” Link says quietly. 

“Cas, he’s too depressed to play with us. So what, you didn’t want him to go to Memphis and leave you. I mean to anyone else that sounds like a valiant effort of love, not betrayal,” Stevie shoves herself off the floor and sits on her girlfriend beside Link. 

“He called me by my real name, well sort of real name, Lincoln. Hurt like a bitch, man,” Link groans, leans into the two girls and presses fingers to his temples. 

“_Sort_ of real name? What’s that even mean? We all knew_Link_ wasn’t on your birth certificate, not that we queers care much about birth names,” Cassie grins. 

“My full name is Charles Lincoln Neal the third,” Link explains, the name bitter on his tongue. “I don’t like it much, it’s my dad’s name and we don’t talk.”

“At least Red didn’t call you _that _shit,” Cassie retorts. 

“He doesn’t know it. I said one day he might find out, but I guess that’s never going to happen.” Link’s stomach churns with guilt and he wonders if he really ever has to return to the farm. The sky outside breaks into a low rumble. 

“Tell him, then, you doofus,” Cassie says. “Go find him and tell him your full awful name that you hate, and say you didn’t tell him about the job because of some vast desire to whisk him away to your college.” 

“You know he’s got it bad for you, this one thing isn’t going to change his mind,” Stevie chimes in again.

“It’s true. And after what you said happened at the hospital, sounds like he needs someone to fight for him a little bit right now,” Cassie nods, running her long fingers through his thick black hair.

“He doesn’t want me to,” Link whines, “he told me to fuck off.”

“You don’t know what he wants, Link! He’s a mess. Always been a mess too, you should have seen him the year after Cole died. It was like having an angry zombie around,” Stevie’s voice drops low, despite being in her own living room.

“He said he still wakes up in the night,” Link murmurs. 

“Cassie met Cole at the feed store back when they first moved to town. Thought he was the coolest, and could clearly tell his brother was gay like us. Then they backed off for a long time and when we heard back next, Cole was dead,” Stevie explains. “I thought we’d never hear from him again, honestly. But Cassie called me from work and said he was back the next week, buying the usual.”

“It’s why they’ve stayed there for three years too long. Keeps ‘em going, you know?” Cassie says. “The animals have to keep eating, so you’ve got to get up and feed them. If you hire help, you’ve got to be around to show them what to do. They’ve sure as hell got enough money to go fuck off to North Carolina, but they’d rot there.”

“Think that’s why Rhett’s so afraid?” Link’s voice is a mere whisper as he contemplates. 

“Oh for sure,” Cassie nods. “ And school is scary as hell. Especially when you’re dealing with grief like that, some days it’s about all you can do to get out of bed.”

“But he shouldn’t go work on a farm in Memphis,” Link frowns, “That’s a step back, not a step forward. He should be around kids his age, like us, learning stuff. Or at least doing stuff that isn’t cleaning out horse stalls.”

“We agree,” Stevie says. “But I think _he_ needs to decide that. So you need to go find him, and tell him that. Or at least tell him that you understand why this is all upsetting. He’s not going to listen to anyone, but he’s got a pretty good shot at listening to his boyfriend.”

“We’re not boyfriends,” Link huffs, “unless he’s told you differently?”

Cassie laughs. “You’re such a coward, Link. Go find your boy and tell him your gay name and that you’ve been a giant asshole and grovel, or whatever. He’s just a tall, burly man with a million problems and you’re more _his _and he’s more _yours _than anyone else in the whole world. Take advantage of that.”

Link can’t help but grin at the absurdity of Cassie’s over- confident monologue. “Yeah, okay. Tomorrow, maybe?”

“No time like the present,” Stevie starts to pack up the scrabble board. 

“Are you guys coming?” Link’s eyebrows rise as he stands, feeling taller than he had before he stat down.

“Fuck yeah, no way I’m missing this romcom moment. Nothing ever happens in this stupid town, I can’t wait for some actual drama!” Cassie pumps a fist in the air.

“And if it goes wrong, you’ll need us to come get you anyway. So might as well witness the action,” Stevie shrugs, putting on a jacket despite it being nearly ninety degrees outside. 

-

Link feels a bit like he’s in a dance gang as the three of them step out of Cassie’s car onto the gravel of the McLaughlin’s driveway. Rhett’s car is there, but when they walk inside the house is dark. 

“He’s run away from home,” Stevie decides. 

“This was on the porch with a package,” Cassie says as she puts the mail on the kitchen table. “It’s addressed to you.”

“Creeper,” Link laughs anxiously. “Who’s it from?”

He picks up the envelope and rips it open with his thumbnail, grateful for the distraction from the current plan. It’s an application for NC State, the one he’d emailed his mom to send him a week ago. The paper is smooth and reading it floods him with a faint memory of the excitement from back when he applied to his college. 

“My mom sent me a college application for Rhett. I’ll see how this talk goes and then give it to him. I mean, I’m not even sure where the guy is,” Link shrugs halfheartedly. 

“Liar,” Cassie rolls her eyes, “you know where he is.” 

Link cringes, found out, because he _does _know exactly where Rhett is right now. In fact, he can picture what he guesses is the exact look on Rhett’s face, too. It’s a hard look, the one he gets when he feels like he’s been wronged by the world. His eyes are dark.

Link’s heart aches. He taps his fingers over the cold surface of the kitchen table and lets his eyes flicker over every knick in the wood. He imagines every time Rhett and Cole sat here together, always aware that one day Cole would be gone. Always planning ahead for how to make his last days good, and forgetting to plan for the beyond. 

All at once, he stands up and is amazed to find that the usual chatter of anxiety in his head is calm. He claps his hands together once and says, “Okay, girls, ready to go?”

Link forfeits going for the ATV, partially because he’s almost sure Rhett’s taken it, but mostly because he needs the walk over to give him more confidence. The three of them walk slowly but surely through the dark field, hands all linked together. They don’t speak, the only noise the sound of crunching crabgrass under their boots. 

“I’m scared,” Link whispers into the night. 

The wind whips around them menacingly, the sky above too dark too early. A beat of silence passes as they walk past the garden. They both squeeze his hand, almost in unison.

“I know,” Stevie says. 

Link’s stomach flips when he sees the outline of a tall person by the creek. He drops their hands and holds out a sign for them to stay back a little bit. He walks forward with a new confidence, takes a deep breath and looks at this confrontation like an opportunity to prove to Rhett, and maybe himself, just how much this relationship means to him.

Rhett hears him, and must know instantly who it is because he doesn’t turn around right away. 

“You’re bad at following directions,” Rhett says, voice pitched low as he continues to face the water.

“I can’t leave you alone, Rhett.” Link says. “I’m not that strong.” 

Rhett turns to face him, eyes just as dark and foreboding as Link had imagined. It makes Link take a hesitant step back. He doesn’t see the girls in his peripheral, makes him think they must have held back too far to be seen. He feels frighteningly alone.

“You think you can fix me, don’tcha?” Rhett slurs, and it definitely sounds like he’s had a shot of rum or two. 

“You don’t need to be fixed,” Link counters.

Rhett laughs, borderline hysterical. “You don’t believe that. You’ve been tryna’ fix me the second you got here. Wanted me nicer, more inclusive, more motivated to follow along with whatever dreams you made for me.” 

Link glares, his fingers twisting together as he struggles to find footing for a counter argument he doesn’t deserve. “That’s not true-”

“Don’t fucking lie to me!” Rhett roars into Link’s face, suddenly inches away as if teleported by rage itself. 

“Fine, okay? Maybe I do! I don’t get why wanting the best for someone you care about is so horrible!” Link yells. 

Rhett growls, their knees threatening to knock together as he fists one hand roughly into Link’s collar. Link flinches as the other winds back to-

“Red!” Stevie stalks out of the darkness, gearing up to hit Rhett in the face. “Get your fucking hands off him!” 

Link exhales roughly as Rhett drops him abruptly with hands in the air and eyes wide like he didn’t realize how he had gotten that far. Link stumbles back and fights every urge under his skin telling him to tuck tail and get the hell out of dodge. 

“Sorry.” Rhett admits after a solid minute of tense silence. “Didn’t realize you brought backup dancers.”

“They brought me home from the hospital,” Link explains. “And they convinced me to come talk to you.”

“If it wasn’t your choice, don’t bother.”

“No, I was just scared. And apparently rightfully so. I just want you to listen to me. You don’t have to forgive me, or accept, or whatever. But I want you to listen,” Link breathes. 

The light haired man doesn’t move. He shoves his hands in his pockets and gives Link the space to keep speaking. Stevie and Cassie stand close by with their arms crossed, the two founding members of the Link Protection Squad. 

“I know I fucked up by not telling you about the job offer. I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard to pursue college after this. But man, Rhett, I know you’re having a hard time. You’ve spent most of your life putting someone before yourself and the past three years grieving that same person.”

Rhett sniffs hard, and Link continues. 

“But me wanting you to go to college isn’t because I think college is the only answer, or that if you don’t go to college it’s somehow worse. I do know that I want you to have some consistent routines, access to counseling, and to not have to leave my side. I told you, I’m not that strong,” Link says weakly, voice breaking.

Rhett might be crying, Link can’t really tell, but he rides out the last bit of his monologue while the three are still looking at him. “That offer from Robyn was a _pity _offer, because they feel bad for you. And it’s almost twelve hours away from my home, and that’s not a driving distance. Can you blame me for not wanting you that far away from me, just to be pitied? Rhett, you’re strong as fucking hell, you need to know your worth. And I need you closer, because I’m really, absurdly fond of you.” 

Rhett steps forward gently this time to lean into an unstable hug. For a minute they stand there, fully aware that Cassie and Stevie are staring at them, and embrace one another. When he pulls back, Link’s shirt is damp.

“They have counseling?” Rhett whispers.

“Yeah, any full time student can have one appointment a week. For anything. And there’s a gym, and a basketball team.” Link treads carefully. “It’s your choice, Rhett. It always will be.”

“I’ll apply. I don’t know what that means, ultimately, but I think it’s a good start,” Rhett says. “I think it’s time to start accepting that my life’s going to change.”

“Take it slowly-”

“I’m going to tell them I’m gay,” Rhett cuts Link off.

“Or quickly!” Link corrects. “Do you think that’s a good idea?” 

“Yeah, at this point it’s not like they can kick me out or anything. And I think hiding you isn’t making anything better, Weakest.”

Link almost collapses at the nickname, steps forward to collide with Rhett in a crushing hug.

“Oof,” Rhett grins, envelops Link over again. “I’m sorry I get so mad.”

“Eh, Cassie’s right. There’s no drama in this town, we have to make it ourselves.” 

Cassie laughs from somewhere close, undoubtedly pleased at the way this turned out. When they all head back to the house, the sky opens up and begins to pour over them. Link runs ahead and tilts his head back, shoving his glasses into his pocket as he lets the water cascade over him. 

Rhett laughs and does the same, spinning slowly with his arms open toward the sky. Stevie squeals and lets Cassie chase her aimlessly, laughing wildly as the rain drowns out the sound around them. 

In this moment, blustery and wet in July after dark, everything feels right again. Link’s hair is fucked from the rain, plastered across his forehead as he watches Rhett’s beard glistening with droplets. 

“Rhett, I love you! ” Link yells, almost desperate in his attempt to get closer, just as lightning cracks around them. 

Rhett cocks his head, jogs forward and cups a hand by his face. “What?!” 

Link laughs, shakes his head and drags Rhett’s wet t-shirt forward to tell him with his tongue as thunder blooms around them.


	27. Lovers' Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I've been MEGA sick. Feeling much better now :D

Diane calls to tell Rhett that she’ll go home tomorrow because she’s going to spend one more night in the hospital with dad. Rhett mumbles that he'll take care of the animals and hangs up the phone. He looks over at Link where he’s sat at the kitchen table licking peanut butter off his fingers. 

“What?” Link cocks his head not unlike a dog and pops his finger out of his mouth. 

“You wanna go upstairs, Link?” Rhett’s voice is an octave lower and it radiates through Link all the way to his groin. 

Link’s jaw drops open a little and he nods slowly, sliding his chair back before saying, “I need to go wash my hands first.” 

Rhett gives a low laugh and taps the table, says, “I’ll meet you up there.” 

Link hurries up the stairs and ducks into the bathroom, hands already fiercely trembling with excitement and trepidation. 

“_Sex_!” Link mouths in the mirror as he washes his hands vigorously. Should he take a shit? Shower? Gargle mouthwash and hope for the best? 

He ends up taking a washcloth and wiping down from his knees to his waist with warm water, embarrassed to already be sporting a half-hard on at just the idea of finally getting laid. When he’s done, he tugs up his shorts and gives his hair one last fluff. 

He takes a steadying breath and returns to the hallway, noting that Rhett’s door is half-open in invitation. He stops in the doorway.

Rhett is just on the side of the bed messing with a radio, looking effortlessly edible with his legs crossed and his brow furrowed. “I’m thinking r&b.” 

Link bubbles out a laugh. “I like that.”

“What’s this?” Rhett says with an unreadable tone when Link starts to move toward the bed. He holds up some papers.

“What’s what?” Link stills by the dresser, on guard, playing dumb.

“Application? On my bed?” Rhett raises an eyebrow. “When did you sneak this up here?” 

“Well,” Link shrugs, “it was before I went to go talk to you.” 

Rhett fakes a gasp, the look turning into a smile before he can help it. He stands and walks over to Link. “You knew I’d cave for you, didn’t you?” 

“No!” Link laughs, lets Rhett sneak hands up his shirt and hold on there. 

“You’re so assumptive, Weakest,” Rhett grows playfully in his ear, making every hair on his arms stand up straight. 

Link grins into it, accepts this as a playful mating dance and wiggles his hips just enough to make Rhett slide one hand down the back of his jeans. 

“Nice tush,” Rhett takes a little nibble of Link’s earlobe as he squeezes his ass. 

Link presses his face into Rhett’s chest and inhales, immediately drunk on the warm laundry-softener smell of him. He runs his nails down Rhett’s back and feels Rhett retract his hands from his pants.

Rhett steps away, ever so slightly flushed, and says. “Bed, then?”

Link scrambles to join him, overeager in his conquest of Rhett’s lap. He sits on Rhett’s thighs the second they’re both down and and kisses him like it’s the first time all over again. It’s slow, intimate, hot in just the right of it being two people who know it doesn’t have to be anything more. This time though, it _is_ going to be. 

Link wants to take off his shirt at that thought, suddenly conscious of Rhett’s strong hands smoothing over his ribcage. He breaks away to tug it off over his head and catches Rhett’s eyes drag over his form. 

“Your turn,” Link messes with the hem of Rhett’s shirt until Rhett’s taking the hint and tugging it off too. It takes Link half a second to decide that they should be vertical and he guides them until they're lying down.

“Oof,” Rhett grins, wrapping a leg around Link to pull him in closer. 

They kiss like that for a while, basking in the heat of each other’s bodies, pushing and pulling in all the ways that make Link’s heartbeat double. He wants to push himself into every crevice of Rhett, get as close as humanly possible and then closer, somehow. He doesn’t realize he’s having these desires until he’s letting himself obey and grinding softly against Rhett’s leg. 

“Pants off?” Rhett suggests, lips glistening. 

Link agrees and they take their pants off and leave their boxers on. Link’s eyes hit Rhett’s hard length and his chest fills with pride that he made that happen.    
  
“Oh my goodness, Rhett,” Link breathes, wasting no time in fishing it out of Rhett’s boxers. The warmth of the heavy weight in his palm makes him reflexively squeeze and the movement draws a low moan from Rhett.

Rhett’s eyelids flicker and he jolts forward to bury his face in Link’s shoulder where he moans in a barely-there sound, something closer to a plea than a statement of fact. Link hears it loud and clear and tugs a little more, trying not to be distracted by the warm mouth on his neck. 

“Lube?” Link whispers. 

Rhett huffs and leans back to reach over into the bedside table, coming back with a toothpaste-sized tube of something light blue and viscous. He palms himself a couple of times and then motions for Link to take off his underwear. 

“Come here,” Rhett warms some lube between his hands and then wraps his long fingers around Link’s bare cock. “Just relax.” He goes slowly but firmly, pays close attention to what makes Link twitch and shut his eyes. 

Link feels his own precum mixing with the lube and his hips chase the friction. Then, Rhett reaches down to cup Link's balls. He trails over the warm skin there and then down a little further until two fingers are running across his taint. 

Link bites back a gasp, legs involuntarily spreading. 

“Link?” Rhett murmurs, “Can I finger you?” 

Link’s eyes snap open fully and the look on his face alone is enough to make Rhett remove his hand from Link entirely. Link nods, but he feels it in his own movements that it’s not that convincing of a yes.

“Can we talk about how far this is going to go?” Rhett says, keeping his voice low and calm. 

“How far do you want it to go?” Link asks.

“As far as you want, baby. But it’s your first time, you call the shots,” Rhett runs his hands down Link’s sides and Link melts into the touch, longing for those lips to be on his again. 

“Let’s go all the way,” Link says, “I want that.” 

Rhett laughs a little, surprised, and says, “You want me to top you?” 

Link’s cock twitches at the mere thought of it. “Yeah. I do.” 

“Want me to take your virginity, baby?” Rhett purrs, pumping a little more lube onto his hand before returning it to Link’s cock. 

Link nods vigorously, prepared this time when Rhett moves to his balls, then keeps going down. He braces himself when he feels Rhett’s finger wetting his hole. He wiggles his ass against the finger until it’s pushing past his tight little ring of muscle, moving inside of him. 

“That feels weird,” Link says, needing either more or less inside of him. 

“Bad?” Rhett’s eyebrow goes up.

“No!” Link says quickly, “Not bad. Can’t be bad, not if it’s you.” 

Rhett lays him back and does a few tugs of their cocks together, taking his time with one finger in Link’s ass. He adds another one and the stretch is similar, but the motions he’s performing reach new levels of intricacy and Link feels something that makes his vision a little starry. 

"Woah,” Link pants, rocking back against the fingers. “Do that- that again.” 

Rhett obliges, kissing Link hard as he digs into Link’s g-spot, making Link lurch forward and grab blindly for Rhett’s shoulders. 

“I’m gonna come just from that,” Link pants. 

“I want to fuck you so badly, Link,” Rhett admits softly, retracting his fingers and wiping them off on his discarded t-shirt. 

“I want you to,” Link settles back onto the bed and watches Rhett jerk himself off a few times, his own cock twitching against his stomach with his heartbeat. Link’s not sure he’s ever felt so on fire; he’s absolutely alive with everything that’s happening here already and the tight anticipation of what’s yet to come. 

He’s decently prepared for the thick press of a cock against his asshole, but he’s not prepared for the look of absolute adoration that passes over Rhett’s face as he pushes in. 

It hurts, sure, but Link’s never felt pain caused by someone giving him  _ that  _ look, and it’s somehow the sexiest thing in the world to know that it’s  _ Rhett _ inside of him. 

It’s beautiful. Link groans, in pain, in pleasure, he’s not sure. All he knows is that everything on his mind is Rhett, and Rhett’s cock, and it’s such a magnificent thing that it’s hard to focus on anything else. Rhett starts moving in imperfect rhythm, his grip tight on Link’s biceps as he fucks into him slowly. 

“You’re perfect,” Rhett grunts, the bed starting to squeak as the rhythm increases. He moves his hands from Link’s arms to his legs, his hands holding Link’s thighs up so he has a better angle for thrusting into him. 

“_Fuck,_” Link murmurs as Rhett grazes his prostate again. 

“You’re so wet,” Rhett grunts, taking Link’s leaking cock into one of his hands as he humps into Link harder. Link has no idea how Rhett can form coherent sentences right now.

Rhett swipes his thumb over the head of Link’s cock and Link cries out, overwhelmed and close to orgasm. Sweat gathers across his forehead and he twists his fingers into the duvet with a renewed vigor, desperate to feel every second of this. 

Rhett’s hands wander now, tease his nipples, dig into his love handles to hold him down as Rhett takes what he wants, fills Link up with his cock over and over with soft little grunts. Link can tell that Rhett’s getting close because his movements become more erratic, his hips seem to take on a mind of their own. 

“I’m close, Link, I’m gonna come inside you unless you say not to,” Rhett half-warns and half-asks, voice tight and eyes half-lidded. 

“Come inside me,” Link breathes, “And touch me, _god_, please,” 

Rhett takes Link’s cock again and starts jerking him in earnest, moving him in time with his own thrusts. “Come on, Weakest, come on, baby,” 

It’s so intense with the two points of contact that Link bites hard on his lower lip and can’t help it as he reaches out with greedy fingers to drag Rhett’s hips back in. Rhett whimpers hard and he humps forward hard before stalling and coming into Link. It’s the last straw; Link follows just like that, his hips jerking forward as he spills into Rhett’s hand. His vision blurs as he feels Rhett’s cock twitch and pulse inside of him, Rhett still riding out his orgasm inside of Link. 

It’s a long moment before either of them speak. Rhett pulls out and settles back onto the bed, pupils blown wide and face thoroughly flushed. Link imagines he looks about the same. The music plays softly beyond the bed. 

“Wow,” Link says when he gathers the strength to sit up. A twinge creeps up his spine.

“Have fun?” Rhett grins, takes Link’s hand to kiss the back of it. 

Link blushes, turns away and clears his throat. “Yeah.”

-

They shower together. 

Link watches Rhett scrub at himself with a loofah with a quiet fascination, a pensive appreciation for the sculpted man before him. He knows he’s less muscular, less firm than Rhett, but he doesn’t feel any worse off for it. He’s thankful for the way he’s smaller than Rhett, beyond grateful for the intoxicating way Rhett makes him feel little in bed, feel cared for in this shower as he starts to massage shampoo into Link’s hair. 

He presses himself against Rhett’s body and leans his cheek against his chest hair, lets the warm water cascade over the both of them as they just exist together. The past couple of weeks have been hard, but he feels it deep in his bones that this is where they should be right now. They’re good for each other, they’re happy. 

“If you want me to wash your back, you have to rotate,” Rhett says sincerely. 

“No,” Link grunts, holding tighter to Rhett’s stomach.

“Fine, fine,” Rhett rolls his eyes (Link can’t see it, but he’s sure it happens) and then proceeds to turn both of them 180 degrees, startling a yelp out of Link. 

Link starts laughing as Rhett scrubs at his back, hiccuping as it turns into ticklish squeals. Rhett keeps going, soaping all the way down his back until he’s sliding into his buttcrack. 

“No!” Link laughs loudly, ducks away and gets cornered against the shower wall. 

Rhett grins wolfishly at him and leans in for a kiss, one Link accepts willingly as he relaxes into the soft touch of his man. He feels safe here, the anxiety absent and his heart full. He kisses back, closes his eyes, and thinks distantly that he’s just had sex for the first time with the man of his dreams.   



	28. Only Child

Link wakes up to Richard’s wild crowing from beyond the dark panes of Rhett’s window. He shifts his hips until he registers more than a twinge soreness below the belt. He stretches his legs out until his toes uncurl toward the ceiling. He raises his arms above his head until they tap the headboard and then he twists his entire naked torso beneath the duvet, moaning softly as he loosens himself out. 

“Feeling better?” The groggy man beside him startles Link out of his reverie. 

“Ass hurts,” Link giggles, shifting closer to Rhett and running delicate fingers down his bare side. 

Rhett reaches over to smooth a hand over Link’s ass and hums appreciatively. “Well, It’s still there.” 

Link leans in for a kiss and takes the opportunity to grope Rhett’s ass back. “So is yours. Mm, can I touch you?”

Rhett kisses Link’s forehead and pulls back, earning a frown from the brown haired boy. “This is a farm, in fact, and we have jobs that keep little tiny animals alive. So no.” 

“They ain’t tiny!” Link shouts as Rhett tugs on clean boxers. “I’ve seen ‘em! They’ll survive twenty minutes without breakfast!” 

Rhett laughs, moving to yank the covers off Link. “Come on, sex addict.”

Link rolls his eyes and lobs a pillow in Rhett’s general direction, only acting half-pleased when it hits him smack in the face. 

-

“Dad’s coming home on Friday,” Rhett plows through the low grass. The machine slows as it nears the horse enclosure. “So-”

Link vibrates with excitement to see his babies, Rhett’s voice fading to a dull roar behind him. He jumps from the ATV and cringes as the cold grassy dew hits his ankles, but trudges forward and climbs over the fence. “Mini Wheat, Merle!” 

“Link!” Rhett snaps. 

Link looks back with impatient eyes. “I’m checking on the baby mama, can this wait?” 

“Fine,” Rhett huffs. “I’m just trying to tell my boyfriend something important.” 

Link blinks and crosses his arms. “I’m your boyfriend now, am I?”

Rhett frowns. “Don’t make me be cheesy. I hate it.” 

“What will we say when people ask how you asked me?” Link teases, leaning against the fence with puppy dog eyes. 

Rhett heaves a load of hay over the side and scowls. “I’ll never have friends that would ask something so rom-com.”

Link rolls his eyes and says, “Well all my friends are sentimental human beings such as myself, so prepare. Just ask me man, come on!” 

“Look, here your baby comes,” Rhett motions with his head to the hill where the two horses are trotting happily for the food. (And  _ Link _ , Link reminds himself) 

“Babies!” Link greets Mini Wheat carefully, still unable to see any bump but treating her like she’s about to pop. “Mini, you’re glowing today.”

“You’ve got a thing for pregnant woman, dont’cha?” Rhett watches them with an amused expression. “You want to be pregnant?” 

Link blinks while he thinks about that. He’s never considered being pregnant, obviously. Never considered a lot of things until he met Rhett. Being filled with life sounds exciting-

“Man, I was just kidding. You don’t have to think about it so hard,” Rhett musses his hair. “Do you want kids, at least? Kids with me?”

Link huffs. “No!” 

Rhett looks wounded. “Fine. I thought you said you liked-”

“You’re not even my _boyfriend_, can’t have kids with you,” Link gives Rhett a face that's about the closest thing to I-told-you-so he's made since sixth grade. 

“You’re insufferable. Fine, Link, be my boyfriend?” Rhett’s voice gets uncharacteristically soft. 

“Say it nicer. Without the insufferable stuff before it,” Link amends. 

“Man,” Rhett breathes in sharply through his nose and takes a step back, eyes flickering to the sky and back to Link. “I can’t yet, okay? Give me until this weekend.”

“Why?” 

“If you had been listening earlier, you would know. I want to tell my parents about me Friday night. And if anything happens-” Rhett stops himself. 

“Rhett, with all due respect, nothing they say can stop you from being my boyfriend. Unless you really think they’ll just explode with it… or do something to you.” Link’s voice trails off as if scared silent by the unlikely option that Rhett’s parents might actually react that poorly to the news. 

“I really don’t know how they’ll react. But I wasn’t going to tell them about you and I until the end of summer, just to make sure they don’t feel like they have to separate us,” Rhett says, “What do you think?”

“I say if you come out now they’ll surely know about you and me anyway. It won’t need to be said. And they’ll probably regret having left us alone in the house for multiple nights,” Link hops back over the fence. “Come on, let’s go feed the chickens.” 

Rhett follows, the horses eating away beside the fence. It’s less pleasant by the coop a few minutes later, the smell of chicken poop wafting toward them every so often. Link picks up a few eggs and picks feathers off them. 

“I’ll make us open faced sandwiches,” Link decides as he gently cups the eggs into the pocket of his hoodie. 

Rhett’s mind is somewhere else as he watches the chickens peck at their breakfast.

-

Diane comes home in the middle of lunch. Link’s making them ham and egg sandwiches over the stove, a checkered apron tied loosely around his waist as he flips them. 

“Hi boys,” Diane says wearily as she walks through the front door and joins Rhett at the kitchen table. 

“Hi momma,” Rhett leans into her for a second, “Link’s making us hot sandwiches, want one?”

She smiles. “If you don’t mind, that sounds like it would hit the spot.” 

Link grins and starts buttering another piece of toast. He leans into the domestic bliss and the warmth radiating off the stove, looks over at Rhett and his mom talking quietly and imagines a whole life ahead of him with this family. 

They just have to get over one tiny hurdle first.

Link serves the sandwiches a little later and watches the way Rhett fidgets wildy and can’t look him in the eye- he’s afraid. Watching Rhett cling to his mom makes one thing evident; the narrative from this point on is controlled by Rhett’s parents. If they aren’t cool with Rhett being into guys, Rhett’s not about to shun his parents for the sake of Link.

Link loses his appetite as he watches Rhett and Diane interact. He wishes he had more control here, wishes he had more control in every aspect of his life beyond the skin and bones of his body. He excuses himself without looking back, all but tossing his half-eaten food into the sink before escaping to his truck. 

-

“Do you want to be there?” Rhett says when he finds Link out in the yard. He doesn’t mention Link’s impromptu exit. 

“ _ Be  _ there?”   


“Yeah, be there when I come out to them,” Rhett shrugs, extracting two of his usual hand rolled cigarettes from his jean jacket. 

“Yeah,” Link takes one without thinking about it. It’s paper-light in his hand, awkwardly balanced between two fingers. 

“Okay. I think mom’s making pot roast for dad’s return on Friday.” 

“Do we need to work today?” Link swallows and changes the subject as Rhett lights Link’s spliff, and then his own. 

“Not really. Mama’s gonna clean up the garden, and we need to put the minis back in the stable by dinnertime,” Rhett takes a long hit and exhales the smoke out through his nose. 

Inspired by the dragon beside him, Link takes a puff and immediately coughs into his arm. After a minute of hacking, he says, “Well then, what are we going to do today?”

“Whatever you want, man.” Rhett leans back in the grass and his eyes glaze over as he stares up at the sky. Link watches the rivulets of golden hair fall across his forehead and touch almost to his jawline. His own hair is long, too, but it lacks the bouncy delicacy of Rhett’s.

“If I drive us out to the secluded spot by the lake, can we make love?” Link braves, stubbing his barely-touched cigarette out in the grass. 

Rhett laughs and it jiggles his stomach, a large hand reaching out to land on Link’s thigh. “Yeah, that sounds like a good time.” 

“I told my mom about us,” Link says, the words taking the last of his breath out with them.

Rhett pauses, entire body stills until the grass swaying in the breeze is the only moment between the two men. He taps Link’s thigh to keep going.

“She’s okay with it. She loves me more than I deserve,” Link smiles, answers the question Rhett didn’t ask. It doesn’t reach his eyes

“Link,” Rhett sits up suddenly, gathering Link’s face in his palms. “You know that you don’t deserve to be loved any less because you love men, right? This isn’t - there ain’t nothin’ wrong with you. Not one damn thing.” 

Link swallows thickly. “I don’t know how many people would agree with you on that one.”

Rhett’s lips are on his suddenly, warm and reassuring but a little suffocating. “It don’t matter. It don’t matter for one second if people don’t think this is right.” 

“Rhett, listen to yourself, won’t you? You’re out here refusing to be my boyfriend until you know your parents aren’t gonna disown you for it,” Like sniffs hard and scoots back, briefly thinking about the grass stains he’s rubbing into his back pockets. “You say it doesn’t matter, but it does.”

Rhett rolls his eyes and gives up the kisses in favor of shoving his own palms through his hair. “That’s not fair. They’re my family, man. You may be able to call your mom up and tell her the second you knew- but my family has been through a lot-”

“Do you think my mom losing her husband and then being a single mother and a nurse was easy? I know it’s family. You’re not coming out as a serial killer, you’re just saying you like dick. We ain’t even been to church in the three months I’ve been here, it’s not like they’re exactly god fearin’, are they?” Link’s sniffling enough that it gives him the appearance of crying without the actual tears. He half-way expects Rhett to blow up again, or storm off. Part of him wants it to happen, wants to be alone right now with everything he’s laid out on the table.

Rhett just huffs and drags Link into his arms (grass stains, damn it). 

“I know, baby. I know,” Rhett hums into Link’s shirt. “It’ll be okay.”

Link backs away from the contact, not unkindly, just like someone with an agenda, and pushes himself off the ground and heads toward his car, waiting for the heavy footsteps behind him to remind him that he’s not alone.

-

The sun sets as they’re tangled together in the back of Link’s truck on some old blankets, half naked with sweat still cooling on Link’s skin. He shifts onto his back and begins to register the cool, hard plastic of the truck bed biting into his shoulder blades. 

“Hey Rhett?” Link asks, still mildly out of breath from what just happened.

“Yeah, Link?” Rhett turns, his eyes a smokey green with the setting sun. 

“I’m leaving in two weeks to go back to North Carolina,” Link moves to untangle his leg from Rhett’s and realizes that his boxers are half way down his shins. He gives up and cuddles closer.

Rhett closes his eyes and reaches blindly to find Link’s hand. “I know. And if everything goes to plan, I’ll be joining you in just a few months.” 

Link smiles at that, even if there’s so much what-if behind the sentiment. A particularly bright star appears above them and he focuses on that instead. 

“That star's yours. It’s the Link-star,” Rhett grins, squeezing once. “We’re in this together now, you and I. Never gonna be far from each other.” 

Link laughs, his mouth thrown open and the small hairs on his stomach standing up with the first evening breeze. He wipes a hand across his slightly-tanned stomach and smiles at the firm abs from months of hard work. 

“What are you smiling about, pretty thing?” Rhett’s voice is gruff inches from his ear and it only makes Link smile more. 

“Everything,” he replies. “Everything.” 


	29. Dig Your Roots

Rhett’s acting weird. Link notices from the second they get back from the barn on Friday morning. It’s not like the guy doesn’t have a reason- Link knows that he does. He has_ every_ reason in the world to be jittery and anxious, trembling and spacey. But he’s not any of those things- he’s just being  _ quiet _ .

“Hey, jerk-face,” Link playfully shoves past the mostly-shut bathroom door and grabs a washcloth from the built-in shelving. 

Rhett rolls his eyes and steps out of the way of the sink, his neck still covered in spots of shaving cream. “I’m kind of going through it over here, mom just left to go pick dad up from the hospital.” 

“It makes me anxious that you’re just going through the motions,” Link finishes washing his face with the cloth and rinses it, ringing it out and handing it off to Rhett.

“I know,” Rhett shrugs, wiping off his neck. “Can you get the back of my hairline?” 

Link grabs the electric shaver and manhandles Rhett around, putting soft, steadying fingers on Rhett’s shoulder as he uses his other hand to clean up his hairline. He says softly, “I assume you’ve picked out nice clothes to wear too?”

“Jus’ my gray henley. I think it makes me look less threatening,” Rhett says.

Link snorts despite trying, really trying, not to. “You’re not threatening.”

Rhett shakes Link’s meticulous fingers off of him and gives him a pointed look in the mirror. “You’ve seen me at my most vulnerable, you're incapable of seeing me as threatening.” 

“You’re forgetting that they were your parents from the second you were born. You’re telling me they never saw you crying, or three years old and sick all over yourself? They surely saw you gettin’ ready for prom, scared to death,” Link smears aftershave on his hands and claps his palms to Rhett’s neck. The tall man doesn’t flinch. “They saw you after Cole passed away, baby. You can’t tell me they haven’t seen you at your worst.”

“You’re probably right,” Rhett says, in a tone that means Link is definitely right and he just doesn’t want to admit to it. 

“Mhm,” Link fixes Rhett’s hair and then looks him over, pleased with his grooming. 

Downstairs, the front door clicks and opens too gently, differently than any family member Rhett’s ever heard enter the house. Both of their hearts begin to thud in their chests and Link grabs Rhett’s hand for a quick squeeze; he tells him through it that he’s here, and it’s going to be just fine. 

Rhett nods once, disbelieving. 

-

Diane is so excited to have Jim home that she’s created a whole spread on the back porch. It looks just like Link’s first night here when Link thought Rhett, _Red_, was a giant grumpy prick. This time they spin around each other in the kitchen as they grab plates and napkins. Link’s got a handful of the blueberries in his mouth when Diane thumps him on the arm, chastising. 

“Dinner is in five minutes, young man!” She laughs, earning a sheepish and purple-y smile from Link. 

Jim’s already outside relaxing in one of the porch chairs. According to Diane, his lung is recovering well and he just needs to take it easy for a few more weeks. He’d seemed happy to be home again, if not a little apologetic and avoidant of Rhett after everything that happened. 

Rhett doesn’t speak, moving around the kitchen like a ghost or a cryptid existing only as a means to an end. When Link catches a glance of Rhett’s hands on the bowl of chicken salad, they’re shaking. Link wants to drag him off to the side and hold him until he calms down, but this train is hurtling toward the dark tunnel ahead and there’s nothing that can be done now. 

He needs to collide with the unknown. 

Eventually, they’re all sitting around the table on the porch and everything is too peachy. The table cloth, light blue and white, sways in the warm breeze and the iced tea pitcher sweats diligently in the middle of the circle. 

“I’m starving,” Link says, because he can tell Rhett’s eyes are about to bulge out of his head and he wants to_ eat_ before everything goes south.

“I’m so happy you’re home, Jimmy,” Diane rubs his arm and he smiles fondly at her. 

“Glad to be back. I missed this place. And it looks like you’ve done a good job holding down the fort, boys,” Jim says with a tight-lipped smile of high approval. 

Rhett nods, only having taken a few bites. Link wants to tell him to eat more, that he’s being suspicious, that-

“So,” Rhett blurts out, too loud in the quiet evening. 

His mom startles, looking up sharply with a half-smile of confusion. Jim keeps eating, grunting in a way that encourages Rhett to continue. 

“Did you see that we drafted a few new players?” Link interjects almost against his own will, unable to fight his desire to protect Rhett a little longer. 

“I did,” Jim shakes his head, “Skinny boys. We’ll see how they do under O’Cain.” 

“He’s gonna really change our team. I can’t wait for the first game,” Link shoves chicken salad into his mouth and ignores the fighting gaze from across the table. 

“When is that, late September? Might be fun to go see it, since we’ll be back out there,” Jim raises his eyebrows.

“October third, actually. I mean,” Link looks at Rhett and spends half a second deciding how to proceed. “I think Rhett actually might uh, go-”

“What?” Diane asks, rightfully so, considering Link’s sentence really didn’t make sense there at the end. He wants to thump himself on the head.

“I, uh, applied to NC State,” Rhett coughs. 

Jim cocks his head in a look of wonder, his mouth drawing into a smile. “Well look at you. Lincoln, did you convince him to try out college?”

Link feels a twinge of annoyance at the truth. “I might have mentioned it once or twice.”

“Well good for you, Red. Erm, Rhett. ‘S too late for this semester, I reckon.” 

“I’d start in January. If I get in, anyhow,” Rhett shrugs. 

“What good news. You know, I wasn’t going to put any ideas into your head but I really think this is a good step. You’ll be able to meet so many people, maybe a nice girlfriend!” Mama Di has on her rose-colored glasses suddenly, absolutely over the moon in a very subtle southern-lady way. 

But at the mention of a girlfriend, Link knows it’s his last chance to shove dinner in his mouth. 

“There’s something else I gotta say,” Rhett starts, and Link can’t help but critique that phrasing a little bit in his head. Link almost can’t watch, armed with a fork and a mouthful of potato salad. One of the cows begins bellowing out in the field and a few more join in. It’s beyond tempting to focus solely on the animals and the drip of condensation on the pitcher in front of him rather than this conversation.

“Oh yeah?” Jim offers when Rhett doesn’t continue. 

Link wants to run away, feels the mechanical actions of his jaw chewing but can’t force his dry mouth to swallow, not yet. He knows it must look like he’s choking, or having some kind of emotional experience with the potatoes in his mouth, but all of his self control is out the window now.

“I,” Rhett says shakily, turning toward his dad as if he wants to be able to see the fist before it hits him. “I’m gay.” 

If Link regretted the bite two seconds ago, he regrets it even more now. He noisy swallows, taking an inappropriate sip of sweet tea so he doesn’t choke to death. Out of the corner of his eye, Mama Di looks like she’s a little worried about him. 

“Gay, huh?” Jim says, not sounding nearly as angry or in disbelief as Link expected. 

“Yeah,” Rhett nods, “I’m into men. Always have been.” 

Link isn’t prepared when Jim turns to him and says, “And Lincoln? Are you gay too?” 

Link nods, eyes wide. Jim turns back to Rhett, then to Diane. 

“I know this aint’ what y’all want to hear,” Rhett swallows audibly. “I’m not saying I want this either, for me. But I sure as hell can’t change it at this point, and I feel like I’ve been, well,” Rhett stops talking when his voice catches in his throat, stops to paw over his eyes to regain some composure. 

Mama Di stands up and crosses wordlessly to her child, wraps her arms around him and rests her chin on his shoulder. “Oh, baby. My baby boy. It’s been _so_ long since I’ve heard from you.” 

Rhett starts sobbing quietly, clings onto his mom’s arms and clenches his jaw fiercely. Whatever words he has left to say are gone, lost into dark imprints on his mom’s light pink blouse. 

“Red, boy, calm down,” Jim slides a hand across the table and Rhett stops crying to blink at it like he’s never seen a hand in his life. “I’m not mad. I’m also not stupid.” 

“You’re not mad?” Rhett asks wetly.

“No, I’m not mad. I figured you had things you wasn’t tellin’ us, and you’d tell us when you wanted to. We’re operating on kind of a different timeline around here, after Cole died,” Jim clears his throat and looks off into the backyard, his hand still outstretched toward Rhett. “You were right back at the hospital when you said you never felt at the forefront of our minds. It’s ‘cause you never had to be. But maybe now that ought to change.”

“I haven’t felt like myself in a long time,” Rhett murmurs. 

“It’d been so long since I’d seen you crack a smile, you know? It was like we’d lost both of you at once,” Jim says, his voice no longer retaining its composure. “And then Lincoln shows up and one week in I walk out to the barn and you’re laughing your asses off.” 

Link’s mouth twitches upward at the memory of that day, how satisfying it had been to finally give Rhett a piece of his mind. And when they couldn’t stop laughing, it had felt like a breakthrough.

“I’m not saying we need any details, now, but Rhett, you’re always going to be my son. And I love you, okay boy?” Jim shifts his hand and before he can remove it Rhett reaches out to give it a firm squeeze. 

“I love you too, baby. Nothing’s ever going to change that,” Mama Di quips, finally pulling her arms back from Rhett’s shoulders. 

“Now you,” Jim turns toward Link with narrowed eyes. “Did you come here with bad intentions?”

Link almost laughs out of boiling hot anxiety. “No sir, I thought I was straight at the beginning of summer. Rhett was my gay awakening.” 

Jim snorts, grimacing. “Okay, the less I need to know the better. Now can we keep eating ‘for these damn flies shit all over the food?” 

Rhett’s the first to nod to that, properly shoveling food in now even with red-rimmed eyes. Link feels better the second he sees Rhett reach for another biscuit. He slides out a bare foot and searches for Rhett’s ankle, finding it and giving a little tug until Rhett’s eyes meet his from across the way. 

They have a silent little conversation where they both nod in a way that means everything went better than planned. Rhett looks about twenty pounds lighter without the secret above him. His eyes are bright green lakes in the late day sunlight and even the blond streaks in his beard seem to shine extra bright now. 

-

They watch football with all four of them after dinner. Rhett has his head in his mom’s lap and his feet over Link’s lap, taking up a good portion of the sofa with just enough room for Jim at the end. 

Link could watch this game- it’s some SEC league playoffs from last season- but he’s more into watching the way Mama Di keeps running her fingers through Rhett’s curls. It’s like she’s looking at a kid she hasn’t seen in years- it almost seems too private for Link to keep his eyes on. 

Jim is immersed in the game, making comments here and there about the Tennessee Volunteers being bad, or good, or _bad_ but better than he expected. He’s sitting a little closer, though, and Link swears he’s looked over at Rhett and Diane a few times with a soft smile. 

Link suddenly feels like this isn’t his place, not right now, and excuses himself to the back porch with his cellphone and glass of tea. He curls up on the porch swing and calls his best friend. 

“Heya Link!” 

“Hey Greg,” Link closes his eyes at the familiarity of his friend’s voice and smiles. 

“Been a while, hasn’t it? How’s the farm? You and Red figured anything out yet?” Greg laughs into the phone, the sound is warm and travels through Link all the way to the soles of his feet. 

“Oh brother, you have no idea,” Link cackles. “I might’a fallen in love with him."

Greg gasps. “No! You liked him? No way! I had no idea! No clue in the world-”

“God, okay, okay!” Link snickers, “I get it. You don’t have to be mean. I didn’t even know I liked him until it kind of hit me.” 

“Link, you haven’t ever known anything until it’s hit you. So is he coming to school with us or not?” 

“He mailed in the application. We’ll have to wait and see-” 

“Come on, I know Alex Hatfield in the admissions office. I bet I could get that process sped up a little,” Greg’s not about to be dissuaded, so Link rolls his eyes and huffs an agreement into the phone. 

“Honestly? Go for it. If you can get him into the next semester, it’d save us having to find a new roommate,” Link doesn’t let himself get excited about the idea of immediately living with Rhett… well, again. 

“You just want to live with your boyfriend,” Greg reads Link's mind and surely would have flicked him on the ear if he were here in person. “Wait- _are_ you two boyfriends?”

Link freezes, suddenly remembering Rhett’s earlier caveat, one that has now been fulfilled. He doesn’t respond until Greg clears his throat. “You know what, man? I’m gonna have to let you go. I gotta go ask Rhett something.” 

“I can’t believe you’re already choosing him over me!” Greg whines dramatically. 

“Shut up, I only get him for one more week,” Link says playfully, but his face falls when the words come out. “One more week.” 

“Yeah, okay, go! Go! Go!” Greg’s yelling into the receiver when Link hangs up. 

He knows Rhett looks good, got all spiffy before coming out to his parents. Link hadn’t bothered, but now that he’s alone in his room it’s easy to pick his church clothes out of his closet and brush his hair. He leaves off the suit jacket and just tucks his dark green button-down into slacks and adds the suspenders he’s worn twice in his life. 

He walks downstairs and finds Rhett half-asleep on the sofa, his dad off to check on the animals and his mom showering upstairs. 

“Hey,” Link says softly, his voice mature and commanding in the low light of the living room. 

Rhett looks up inquisitively and pauses for a second before he smiles and slowly stands. 

“I think you should come with me,” Link smiles.

-

Rhett returns from upstairs with his hair slightly more in place and loops his pinky through Link’s. “Where are we going?” 

“You know,” Link says as they head outside toward the west pasture. 

It’s still daylight when they reach the small stream, sweat trickling in rivulets down Link’s back as he bites on his lower lip. 

“We should have taken the ATV,” Rhett shrugs, clearly just as sweaty. 

“Not romantic,” Link huffs, a smile on his lips. 

Rhett walks by the small stream and watches it meander slowly around the eroded sides, squats down to throw a small pebble into it. 

“Your parents really took it well. I think they missed you, Rhett,” Link says.

Rhett smiles at the water, but Link catches it and mirrors it.

“I know. I missed myself too,” Rhett stands and wipes off his palms on his jeans.

“And now you get to be whoever you you want,” Link drags him in via his hips. “And I want to be right here while you figure out who that’s going to be.” 

“You’re really cheesy,” Rhett smiles, pressing his lips to Link’s forehead. “I have something for you.” 

“So do I!” Link purses his lips, “I thought my present was special.” 

Rhett looks around for a box, well aware that Link brought nothing with him, unlike his own bag on the grass. “Mine first.” 

“Fine,” Link says, watching Rhett dig out a small stack of just a few pictures. 

“You know,” Rhett takes a deep breath. “You drove us to the hardware store, that first week you were here. And I was sitting in the back of the truck, and I, uh, took this picture of you.” 

He shows a picture through a smudged truck window, Link’s hair was a lot shorter in the back at the beginning of summer. His arm is resting on the window and it’s a little blurry. 

“You took a picture of me?” Link barely remembers that car ride.

“You were singing, and you seemed so happy,” Rhett shrugs. “It reminded me of when I used to be happy just to be driving. And here you were with this asshole and working in the heat and you _still_ seemed so happy.” 

Link flushes and watches Rhett pull out another picture, one of Link walking into the lake. “When’d you take that?”

“That day we went with just the two of us,” Rhett says. “You took so long getting into the water. Watchin’ you shimmy your hips… that’s when I figured there might be something there. I had my camera in my bag and after I hurt my back I never got to use it. But I still have this one picture.” 

“Creeper,” Link huffs, punching Rhett in the arm affectionately. “What other picture do you have of me?”

Rhett looks down and smiles, turns to the next, and last, in the stack. It’s Link, this time his face, asleep on a hotel bed. “I was beside you while you were sleeping. That’s when I knew I had it bad for you, Neal. I knew I had to do something about it then.” 

Link remembers him messing with his camera in bed, remembers that night like it was yesterday. “I knew too. I was so lost in the sea of my feelings for you, I didn’t know which was was north.” 

“I didn’t show you these pictures because I want you to think I’m a creep. I just wanted to show you them because I thought when I took them they would be what I would remember you by when you’re gone. That you’d never see them, or me, again. And now that’s just- that’s not true,” Rhett’s a little choked up as he rips the stack of pictures in half. 

“You have digital files, right?” Link laughs a little.

“It’s the symbolism!” Rhett coughs a laugh. “I don’t need them, because you’re not leaving me when you leave this place. I want you to be my boyfriend, Link.” 

Link grins, prompting Rhett to deposit the ripped pictures onto the grass and twist his fingers into Link’s suspenders. 

“Yeah, okay,” Link shrugs, his smile so wide his eyes are barely open with the force of his cheeks.

“Yeah? You’ll be my boyfriend?” Rhett murmurs between kisses. 

“Yeah,” Link winds his arms around Rhett.

“Can I have my present now?” Rhett raises a perfect eyebrow. 

Link sputters so hard Rhett drops him, confusion flooding his face. Link covers his face with his hands and says, “Oh gosh, it’s so much worse than yours. It’s not - it’s just that, my full name. I was going to tell you the other night but I forgot. My full name is Charles Lincoln Neal the Third.” 

Rhett breaks into laughter all over again, saying breathlessly, “You’re a THIRD? I waited three months to figure out that THAT'S your full name?!"

“Stop, I’ll break up with you,” Link giggles as Rhett drags him back into a sweaty hug. 

“I love it,” Rhett says roughly. “God, I love it. I love you.” 

Link gasps, emotion surging through him as he checks Rhett’s eyes to make sure it wasn’t a freudian slip. 

“It’s too soon,” Rhett shakes his head, “I know it’s too soon. But goddamn.” 

Link buries his face in Rhett’s chest and mumbles back, “I love you too. I know it’s too soon, but goodness gracious.” 

“It’s intense, ain’t it?” Rhett breathes, his arms crushing around Link’s back. 

“Seems like everything is, with you,” Link nods, unsure how he could possibly get closer to his boyfriend, but trying anyway. “I feel like everything wasn’t supposed to work out this well, but it did.” 

“Life can’t pick on us forever, right?” Rhett breathes into Link’s hair, “At some point we have to start winning, right?” 

Link nods, not sure if he really believes that. He doesn’t know if he believes in God, or faith, or even lucky circumstances. All he knows right now is that this is real life, and these are the cards he’s been dealt. And he’s pretty happy about that. 

Yeah, he’s pretty damn happy about that. 


	30. Last Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all have enjoyed this wild love story. I certainly enjoyed writing it.

Link shifts his hips a little and makes a distant unhappy sound as he focuses his eyes beyond the tiny glass window in Rhett’s bedroom. “I think we should spend more time with the horses before I go.”

“Link,” Rhett whimpers quietly, his hands coming up to hold Link’s chin and return his attention.

“I’m just saying!” Link huffs at his cheeks being manhandled. He shakes his head to knock his shaggy hair out of his eyes and in the process shakes Rhett’s hands back to his hips.

“Dad said he’d,” Rhett takes in a shaky breath, “said he’d work something out for them back in- back in North Carolina.” 

“You might get to keep them close by?” Link flashes a grin. 

“Yes! Now can you focus, please,” Rhett grunts. 

Link shrugs, satiated, and moves his hips up before pressing down hard again on Rhett’s cock. Rhett’s eyes flutter shut and he can’t help but to urge Link up again with his hands. 

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Rhett says thickly as Link obliges. 

“When do I get to fuck you?” Link starts with the questions again and he can see the playful annoyance wash over Rhett’s face. 

“I asked! And you said you didn’t want to,” Rhett says. 

“Can’t a man change his mind?” 

“Clearly you’ve changed your mind about wanting to do this right now,” Rhett snorts, half thrusting up into Link and half wondering if he should give up on the endeavor entirely.

“No, I’m having fun. Sorry, I’ll focus,” Link’s preoccupied but half-hard against his chest already, so he might as well finish the job. He grips his fingers into Rhett’s firm shoulders and begins to ride him in earnest, little gasps escaping from his parted lips as Rhett meets every movement.

“Can I come inside?” Rhett says when the only sound in the small room is the steady slap of hot skin against hot skin.

“Mama will kill me if you knock me up,” Link drawls at the same time he rolls his hips.

It’s a joke but it gets Rhett’s eyes rolling back in his head as his hips stutter. Large hands slide down Link’s ass as Rhett buries himself as deeply as he can. “Link,” Rhett whines.

“Yes, idiot. Come in me,” Link leans to kiss him hard, Rhett’s mouth warm and waiting for him. 

Rhett grinds against Link’s ass until Link clenches hard around him and Rhett chokes a whine into Link’s mouth as he comes hard inside of him. Rhett bucks through the orgasm as Link enjoys the twinge of warmth and the steady throbbing of Rhett’s cock.

Link climbs off of him a moment later and frowns at the already-there soreness in his hips.

“Come here,” Rhett reaches a hand out for Link’s cock and Link does a half-shrug. 

“Can you just suck me off later? I bet your mom is wondering what we’re doing inside for so long.”

“Well she sure as hell ain’t going to ask!” Rhett laughs, gets up on his knees and shoves Link down onto all fours. 

“Fine,” Link submits, lets Rhett push back into him and reach around for his cock, rocking against his G-spot as he jerks Link off. 

Now this is hard to get distracted from, Link thinks. Feels better to have someone else doing the work, pressed deep and working selfishly to stimulate. He inhales sharply as Rhett cups his balls with one hand and jerks the other over his cock hard.

“Won’t last long,” Link mumbles, pushing his ass back against Rhett as he tries to fuck into Rhett’s fist. He looks down at his white knuckles on the quilt and wonders absently how he lived without this for twenty two years. 

Rhett’s swelling a little but still soft, lubricated by cum and the remnants of the lube from when they began. Link likes it now that he’s adjusted to the push and pull, likes how Rhett learned where it feels the best to fuck against. 

He spills over Rhett’s hand two minutes later; it almost feels euphoric with the man on top of him. The second he’s done an overwhelming sort of anxiety leaks in, however, and he half-heartedly shoves Rhett off of him. 

“You okay, Weakest?” Rhett reaches for him but Link’s off the bed, sliding his discarded boxers back on. “Careful now, you’ll get those nasty.”

“I don’t care,” Link slides on his flannel and buttons it too quickly, getting them all off by one row. “Fuck.”

“Slow down, man. What’s wrong?” Rhett’s stride beats Link to the door and Link has no choice but to look him in the eyes.

“What if you don’t end up going to State?” Link fights the burning in his eyes by looking anywhere but Rhett’s.

“It’ll be okay! I’ll still be living in North Carolina with my family, or if I get a job, by myself-” 

“Yeah but Fuquay is like, half an hour from campus with good traffic. How often will we see each other?” Link’s eyes well up.

“Link,” Rhett laughs in frustration as he reaches out for Link’s hands. “I think you underestimate what I’ll do to see you. Do you recall that I have driven three hours to Nashville a million times just to see friends?”

Link laughs wetly and pulls a hand away to wipe up under his glasses. “I guess.”

“Good. Now, come on. Tomorrow is your party and mom texted me that she wants us to go get some chicken wings to throw on the grill.”

“Your mom knows how to text?” Link blinks.

“I think she may have figured it out just so she wouldn’t have to come confront us just now. Let’s go,” Rhett says.

-

Stevie arrives with Cassie before Diane has so much as secured a single tablecloth to the old white card tables in the yard.

“Stevie!” Diane chastises, “If you’re here this early you’re going to help set up!” 

Cassie immediately grabs from the pile of tablecloths and begins helping. Stevie heads for the door.

“Yes ma’am, I just need to go talk to Red for a minute!” Stevie replies, turning toward the door to find Link hiding behind one of the porch pillars. “Link?”

“Shh!” Link grins, tugging her through the door. “If I got caught I’d have to help. I came to see who arrived. I’m glad it’s you.”

“Where’s Red?” 

“He wants to be called Rhett now,” Link corrects. “And he’s upstairs showering.”

“You’re not with him?” Stevie raises her eyebrows. “And I thought things were going well between you two.” 

Link huffs, “No, I had to shower earlier this morning after his jizz was coming out of my ass.” Despite his confidence, a blush spreads across his cheeks. He quickly leads them into his room and they sit down on the bed together.

Stevie’s mouth falls open in a scandalized but appreciative glance as she brings her palms together in a silent clap. 

“Don’t be too proud, I cried after it.” Link leans on Stevie’s shoulder. “Only because I’m going to miss him. I’m going to miss you, too.” 

“You’ll have to come visit me out in California,” Stevie says.

“Wait, what? California?” Link perks up, eyes wide. 

“Yeah. I applied to a small film school out there and got accepted on a full ride. I didn’t want to tell anyone until I made up my mind, but now that Red’s- Rhett’s leaving, I feel like I need to do it.”

“What about Cassie?” Link says, the first thought in his mind. “I mean, that’s incredible. Congratulations.”

Stevie laughs softly. “She works as a manager at Concord Vet, she can find a vet office to work at out there. She said she’s excited to see the coast, actually.” 

“Would you guys get married if you could?” Link frowns, staring down at the carpet.

“Probably. But it wouldn’t change a thing,” Stevie puts a hand on Link’s and gives him a smile. “Don’t be afraid Link, love is beyond any human construct that they don’t want us to have.” 

“Are you hitting on my boyfriend?” Rhett, sporting only a white towel hanging loosely off his hips, says suddenly from the doorway of Link’s room

Link laughs but sits up, aware suddenly of the intimacy of a dark room and human touch. For the first time in his life, he has someone to be (even jokingly) jealous of him. 

“Stevie, tell him the news.” 

-  
Link isn’t quite sure what he expects when people start arriving to his cookout. Of course when Ellie arrives Link greets her before Stevie jumps in to tell her about California. Glen from the Pep Boys arrives with his wife and two kids, looking just as rough as he did the one time Link met him. 

“Who all else is coming?” Link says as he steals a potato chip and trails Rhett across the yard.

“No idea. Mom invited half the town, I think,” Rhett strains over a large cooler.

“Let me help,” Link moves to grab a handle and Rhett pulls it away.

“No way, I can’t let my boyfriend help me. That’s embarrassing,” Rhett jokes, “In front of all my friends, too!” 

Link grins, unable to help himself when Rhett said the word boyfriend, out here in front of everyone. “Well, at least get me a Sprite.” 

Rhett huffs when he releases the weight of the cooler by the drinks table and wrings out his hands. “I think we’ve done enough to be able to eat, wouldn’tcha say?” 

About fifty people attend the cookout. As everyone feasts on North Carolina barbecue (thanks Diane) the 20-somethings all sit together on the grass and chat. 

“Sean said he wants to go visit y’all next spring,” Ellie says, tapping her boyfriend’s thigh.

“Hell yeah. I’ll get some PTO and we’ll head West for a weekend!” Sean grins and holds up a rib as a toast. 

Link nods in agreement before he dramatically falls onto Rhett and says, “I’m so full. I’m never eating again.”

Rhett drapes a warm arm over him and rubs his stomach. “Yep, feels full.” He tugs Link’s plate across the grass and dumps it onto his own. 

Link sits up and says, “Hey! Jerk!” 

“You were done!” Rhett laughs loudly, protecting his plate from Link’s sticky hands. Link tries harder and squeals when Rhett holds him back effortlessly.

All at once they pause and look over at the two couples across from them, all four grinning. 

“Y’all are nasty,” Cassie says as she grabs another rib. “But I wish you the best, sincerely.” 

The discussion is interrupted by a spoon hitting the glass pitcher of lemonade. 

“Excuse me,” Jim says gruffly. “My wife and I just wanted to say we appreciate everyone coming over today. I think it’s a mighty fine sendoff for one of the finest farmhands we’ve had the pleasure of hiring. Lincoln Neal.” 

Link’s heart catches in his throat as he sits up a little straighter on the grass. 

“And!” Diane cuts in, “I think it’s fitting that we threw a get together before we leave for North Carolina. Every single one of you has made our time here important, and easier. But I don’t think we would have gotten the courage we needed to return without Lincoln. Come over here, won’t you?”

Link walks over to the table, all eyes on him. His hands tremble as he shakes Jim’s hand, and then hugs Diane. 

“It was hard after we lost Cole. We were supported by this community. But I think it was hardest on Red. And having Lincoln here meant getting to see my son smile again. That is priceless,” Diane continues. 

Link’s eyes flicker to Rhett but he’s gone from his space on the grass. Anxiety bubbles in his chest.

“It was a pleasure, son. Good work,” Jim claps him on the shoulder and raises his plastic cup. “To Lincoln, and to Tennessee. God bless.” 

Everyone raises their cups and takes a sip, and Link feels all at once like he isn’t quite worthy of even that, even the smallest action from a few dozen strangers. He buzzes with gratitude but he’s a little relieved when Jim wanders off to the beer keg and Diane is already fussing over more flies getting into the watermelon. 

“Thank you,” Link says, his voice barely a whisper to nobody in particular, before running off to go seek out Rhett.

He checks in with Sean, Ellie, Cassie, and Stevie before he disappears. 

“Any idea where he went?” Link frowns, Rhett's empty plate still on the grass.

“No, I was watching you when he just got up and left,” Stevie shrugs.  
Link breathes too quickly as he makes his way into the house. He doesn’t hear anything inside, but then a foot creaks on the stairs. 

“Rhett? Baby?” Link calls out, waiting for Rhett to come down.

“Yeah, hey,” Rhett’s voice is a little sore, catching on his words.

“Are you okay?” Link gathers the man into his arms, kissing his face on his tiptoes.

“Yeah,” Rhett holds him back tightly. “They got my application.” 

“State?” Link leans back just enough to see Rhett’s eyes. “And?”

“Someone was able to rush it- said they’d gotten a call from Greg about it. I’ve been accepted, for the fall semester if I want,” Rhett’s face breaks out into wet grin. “I’m in.”

“Fuck yeah!” Link collides with him again, his own eyes watery with relief. “God, I’m so proud of you.” 

For a minute they just hold each other, not quite crying and barely breathing. It’s safe, here. The party murmurs outside the walls of the house, gentle and preserved forever in this memory. Link moves his hand under the hem of Rhett’s shirt and runs his thumb slowly over the warm skin there.

-  
The morning of Link’s last day feels too much like any other. He wakes up alone and half expects it to be pouring outside, purely because he feels like it might be pouring inside of him. He slides from bed with insides like jello and meets Rhett at the sink. Rhett’s brushing his teeth and gives Link a curious look. 

This time, Link shuts the door on them and wraps his arms around Rhett’s waist. 

“You don’ ‘ave ta’ work if ya don’ wa’ to,” Rhett says around his toothbrush.

“I want to,” Link says softly.

“Okay.” 

I’m going to miss you,” Link murmurs into Rhett’s thin t-shirt. 

“Not for long,” Rhett reassures after spitting into the sink. 

It’s reassuring enough to distract Link until they reach the North pasture on the ATV and Link collapses in front of the expectant mother. 

“Mini Wheat,” Link wraps his arms around her. “I’m gonna miss you, girl. You too, Merle.”

“He’s not dying, guys. Just headed back home. And if dad has good news tonight, so are y’all.” 

“I really don’t feel like I’ve been here three months,” Link tells Rhett, or maybe one of the horses. 

“Maybe it would feel like less time if you had spent more of it working and less of it chasing boys,” Rhett teases, slightly breathless from tossing over the bales alone.

“Boys? Last time I checked, it was just the one. And the one is you, Merle. Such a good boy!” Link coos.

“Don’t patronize them,” Rhett crosses his arms. “You want to go feed the cows for dad or do you want to stay here with your children?”

Link looks back with soft eyes and a too-wide smile. “Can I stay here? Can you come pick me up when you’re done? Pretty please?” 

“Lucky you’re cute, Neal. I’ll be back.”

Rhett drives off and Link shoves his hands into the pockets of his muddy jeans. They’d probably have to be tossed now; he doesn’t think even Sue could get these stains out. Maybe he could wear these to take riding lessons wherever the McLaughlins end up boarding the minis. 

“You two have been a real highlight,” Link says. “I’m serious.” 

Link thinks about the other highlights. Before Nashville the list was pretty scarce, mostly just Mama Di’s food and the horses. After, well, every damn minute he was in Rhett’s arms made the list. And now, just like that, he has to leave.

School starts in a month and Greg’s been holding down the fort in their little apartment.  
Link’s excited to have his room back, hopefully with Rhett in the room next door. Link stares out over the pastures and sees the dot of the ATV heading for the East pasture.

“I love him,” Link says aloud. The horses don’t react. “I love him! Christy’s going to be pissed. Or maybe she’ll be happy, because this means we can be friends again. Oh, she’ll love Rhett too. I think everyone back home will.”

He smiles, excited for the future. Pleased about the past. He lowers himself down on the prickly grass and spreads his arms out, letting the sunlight radiate warmth over him. Beneath the grass lies hard Tennessee clay, but it feels sturdy and promising as he thinks about what’s next for him. 

The air smells of manure and hay, but a grin spreads across his face as he inhales deeply. The birds sing excited songs beyond the pasture in the patches of evergreen trees.

Soon he’ll pack his bags and head home. He should get there by nightfall if he leaves after breakfast. He’ll get to hug his mom tonight, hug Greg tomorrow if he plans it right. Yeah, soon he’ll have to leave and never return to this farm, but he’ll get to see his boy again. His beautiful bright-eyed boy. 

He closes his eyes and pictures Rhett laughing across from him in the dining hall, excited over some new idea he’d heard in his geology lecture. His hair is longer, grown out in dramatic waves that Link gets to card his fingers through when they lie together at night. Everything glows around the edges, full of promise and warmth.

Link hears Rhett coming back for him in the present where the familiar roar of the ATV grows louder in the morning air. 

He opens his eyes into blinding sunlight.


End file.
